


Accepting the Tides

by Emma_Anacortes



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BUT ALSO HAPPY, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Dad!Tony, Gen, Multi, Peter is Tony's kid, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, kinda sad, pretty serious violence against a child please be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 78,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Anacortes/pseuds/Emma_Anacortes
Summary: Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know I like just started another story on here but I got the idea for this story the other day and I just can't get rid of it. I've gotta let it out.

“So are you like – _happy,_ Peter?”

Peter stopped walking in the middle of the crowded hallway. He turned to his best friend and raised his eyebrows. “Um, come again dude?”

Ned shrugged his shoulders. “Like are you happy? With Mr. Stark?”

Peter was confused. They’d just been talking about how Tony was letting him come to California with him for the weekend. Where had this come from? “Well, yeah. We have a good time. Why?”

Ned leaned up against a locker. “I dunno. You guys seem to get along super well. I just wonder sometimes. Cause you know you aren’t much of a talker.”

With a jerk of the head, Peter gestured for them to continue down the hallway. He smirked a little at Ned. “What do you mean? I talk all the time!”

“Not about important things.”

Peter didn’t answer because he knew that was pretty true. He did keep most deep things to himself now. It was just too hard to even think about them. Talking would be even worse. He found if he just kept busy, functioning was much easier. And Tony was super good at keeping Peter busy.

“I know man,” Peter sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s just easier to – ya know – build legos with you instead of talk about my dead aunt.”

Ned flinched at the harsh wording. “I know. We can talk about whatever you want. As long as you talk to someone.”

“I talk to Tony. Sometimes.”

Ned squinted at that, but Peter didn’t falter because it really was mostly true. They did talk a lot. Tony must have picked up a parenting book or something because he was great about keeping Peter healthy – mentally and physically. He made Peter talk when Peter went quiet. He didn’t let him sleep all day. He made him eat. He took him out on boats and let him drive in his cool cars and train with the Avengers. Honestly, it really couldn’t have turned out much better after May dying. It was the best the situation could get.

But still. Ned’s question began to weigh heavily on Peter’s mind. It had been eight months since May died. The dark hole that had grown in Peter’s stomach the day he’d lost the person he cared about most in the world had been shrinking every now and again. But Peter didn’t see it going away completely in the near future. He actually didn’t think it would ever go away.

They arrived in their first period together with Ned glancing at Peter warily. Throughout the teacher’s lecture Peter couldn’t help think over and over – _Are you_ happy _, Peter?_

*

“So this time you’re actually going to wear sunscreen because I’m not taking home a lobster again. That was so embarrassing. For me.”

Peter rolled his eyes at Tony but willingly caught the blue bottle that he threw across the room. He packed it in his suitcase, knowing he wouldn’t actually put it on.

“I’d rather be a lobster than put sunscreen on. Sunscreen sucks ass.”

Tony moved further into Peter’s room and observed what he was packing. “Nice language. How does it suck that bad drama queen?”

“Because,” said Peter, placing a couple pairs of socks in the outer pocket. “It takes forever to dry and sometimes it gets in my eyes. And it makes the sand stick to me more. Gross.”

“Rough life.” Tony remarked teasingly. “Too much beach going for you, huh?”

“Yeah, way too much for me.” Peter retorted. It was all completely sarcastic and Tony knew it. Peter loved the ocean. He loved it _so_ much and Tony had noticed. He’d been drawn to it a lot as a child. Sometimes he had ridden the ferry just because. Of course, he and May hadn’t had the money to ever travel somewhere they could actually swim. And they had never been out on a nice boat. But in the last eight months Tony saw how happy the ocean made Peter and made every effort he could to take the kid on adventures to it.

Peter really liked California. Tony had taken him there for the first time a few months ago and it was hard to drag Peter away. It hadn’t been difficult to get him to agree to the trip this weekend at all – even if it was for a Stark Industries event.

Once Peter started zipping up his suitcase Tony came and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cool. Wheels up in ten, kay?”

Peter nodded. “Kay. Did you get my suit?”

“It’s already hung up in the jet. I’ll go find Happy and we’ll head out.”

Peter watched his now-guardian walk out of his bedroom, not letting himself think of Ned’s question any longer. He told himself it would just have to be another thing he buried deep inside.

*

The flight to California was long but smooth. Peter was quiet. Tony tried not to be too worried about that because it was about a 50/50 chance that Peter would talk while traveling. Sometimes the kid felt like it and sometimes he didn’t. But he did have that pinched look on his face right now. The face that said he was thinking hard about something.

And so Tony worried.

Worry. Parental worry. Something so foreign that Tony thought he would never feel in his lifetime. Yet here he was with a boy just a month shy of his sixteenth birthday. He was bringing him to California. He took care of him. He made sure the kid had his suit on the plane, ate good food, got good grades, and didn’t watch bad shows on Netflix. He easily took care of whatever Peter needed and more.

And damn did Tony _love_ it.

There was just something so – _healing_ about being needed. It kept Tony going. And honestly, he really loved having the kid around too. He was an _awesome_ kid. Sometimes he did get a little snotty or fired up. But most of the time he was simple and sweet. He got excited about super small things. His eyes shone when Tony took him out sailing or even just watched a movie with him. He loved being around the Avengers and they all loved him. Everyone did. It was impossible not to. Hell, Tony had already admitted to himself that he really did love the kid.

Something in him hated that he’d found so much happiness out of a terrible situation. Ideally, May Parker would still be alive and Peter would have the aunt that he loved so much in his life. But they had made the best of what had happened – and for Tony it was probably much better for him than it had been for Peter.

*

“Okay kiddie. Stay out of the limelight as much as you can, okay? To them you’re just the intern so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Peter nodded sharply as they ascended the vast steps up to the mansion where the event was being held. He could easily already hear the loud people behind the front doors. No doubt there would be a million people snapping pictures, pleading for a comment from Tony. Peter knew the drill mostly by now. He’d been to several events with Tony. They weren’t his favorite things in the world. But it was what Tony did and Peter didn’t really like to be alone, so he went. Plus, to the world he was nothing more than an intern that Tony liked. Peter usually just kept to himself and a soda until Tony was done socializing. It wasn’t too bad. Plus he liked seeing all the insanely rich people and wearing his own fancy suit. He never had much of a reason to wear it otherwise.

Tony placed his hand on the back of Peter’s neck. “You good?”

“Yeah – yeah. Totally good.”

Tony smiled. “Yeah. You’re a good kid.” Peter beamed. “Let’s go.”

Happy pulled on Peter’s forearm before the doors opened. He placed Peter slightly behind himself to make sure he could easily slip into the crowds and away from Tony once they arrived. In half a second Peter watched Tony’s face go from normal to charismatic business man the second the doors opened. He smiled slightly in admiration and allowed himself to be pushed away from the two men by Happy. A couple reporters came up to Peter, asking questions but he just smiled politely and walked past.

Peter grabbed something to drink and settled himself against the back wall of the mansion’s front room. He watched, amused, as Tony made his way through the crowds of people, answering their questions so easily. The whole goal of the event was to get people more on board with a few of Tony’s ideas and the man was clearly selling it well.

Every few minutes Tony or Happy would turn to where Peter was on the back wall and make eye contact with him. They communicated silently that everything was good, and Peter was fine. And he really was. Well, the room was a little stifling, some people were staring, and he did still feel that pit in his stomach a lot. But he was Tony Stark’s kid now. Tony, who had done so much for him and had cared so much. The least he could do was not whine about going to a fancy party.

Then there that question came again.

 _Are you_ happy _Peter?_

Peter shook his head quickly, as if trying to boot the thought out. He looked out the window, seeing the moon shining down on the long front steps and throughout the gardens. It looked nice out there. The weather always felt wonderful in California. Surely Tony and Happy wouldn’t mind if he stepped out for some air. Just for a moment.

Carefully he maneuvered himself through the many people and slipped out the doors. He’d told himself he wouldn’t go far, but his heightened senses heard the water crashing against the shore just beyond the trees and he couldn’t help himself.

The spring air was warm and smelled like salt. Peter breathed in deeply.

_A month. That’s how long he’d been without May. He had been living in his worst nightmare for an entire month._

_And yet here he was, on a freaking million dollar sailboat off of Manhattan with Tony freaking Stark. It was a little past nine at night, and the sky was like pure ink. They had set out around dusk to see the sunset and now found themselves unable to stop staring at the sky._

_It was dangerous for Peter to lay in one place for too long, because then he thought and remembered. He remembered that day, the smell and whiteness of the hospital room._

_So he focused on the black sky instead. He focused on counting each star that shone brightly out on the water. He breathed in the ocean air._

_The boat rocked a little as Tony got up to sit closer to Peter. He draped an arm around the teenager’s shoulders._

_“You cold at all?”_

_Peter shook his head._

_“Yeah. It_ is _a nice night.” He was using that voice. The non-sarcastic, serious one that Peter knew was reserved for only him._

_He didn’t answer. He’d been talkative a little at the beginning of the trip, but he wore out a lot easier now._

_“I think I know why you like the ocean so much.”_

_Peter’s eyes snapped up to Tony’s. “Yeah?” He nearly whispered. “Why?”_

_“Because it’s been a constant in your life. It’s just something that’s always there. Something beautiful and comforting. Your whole life you’ve been able to walk out on the pier or the beach and clear your thoughts. It has always been there.”_

_Slowly, Peter nodded. Tony wasn’t wrong._

_“So that makes two constants in your life.” Tony finished. Huh? Peter raised his eyebrows at him._

_“Um,” Peter licked his lips. “Two?”_

_“Yeah. Two. Not trying to be overly cheesy here kid, because you know I hate that. But just so you know –_ I’m _going to be a constant in your life.”_

_Peter blinked._

_Tony continued. “I know kids need security, and I need you to know that you have that. You’re secure. You can stay with me for as long as you want. Hell, you could be living in the basement when you’re thirty. I won’t mind. I care about you, and that’s how it’s going to be now.”_

_Speechless, Peter nodded. He snaked his arms around his new friend and buried his face in his shoulder. Shakily he said, “I – I don’t know how I could ever thank you, Mr. Stark.”_

_Tony tightened his grip. “You don’t have to. And gosh, call me Tony.”_

“Headed for the shore, kid?”

Peter snapped out of his memories with a jolt. The voice behind him was deep and hit Peter like a brick. He whirled around, defensive.

A man stood on the path a few yards behind Peter. He raised his large hands in a mock surrender. “Hey, it’s all right. You’re Peter, right?”

Feeling a hot flash of fear, Peter nodded. He had no idea which media source this guy was from. “What do you want?” Peter asked hoarsely.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You don’t need to be wary of me, Peter. I’m not with the press or anything. I actually just came here tonight to see you.”

Peter took a small step back. “Yeah? Do I know you?”

The man nodded carefully. “Yeah, you do. And I know you – really well actually.” He chuckled.

Peter started hurriedly taking in the man’s features. Dark brown hair, dark eyes, thick eyebrows and a muscular build. He was a head taller than Peter and had pursed lips. There were bags under his eyes and no smile lines at the creases. His hairline was the same as Peter’s.

And with a pang he realized that he had seen that hairline before. He had seen that face. He’d seen that smile. In photos and videos and foggy memories. Peter let out a sharp gasp as the realization hit.

The man stepped closer and Peter still backed away. He stared up in confused and slightly fearful wonder.

“Hey, Peter. I’m Richard Parker. Sorry it’s been a while, kiddo.”

Well _shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! You guys! I can't even tell you how happy I am with all the comments you've left. It's seriously so sweet. Please continue to let me know what the think of each chapter, it really does mean a lot.

_It couldn’t be_.

_How was this happening?_

Peter stood in numb shock. With wide eyes he stared at Richard, unseeing because this could not be happening. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Was he dreaming? Having a nightmare?

He didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? Where could he start? His heart was pounding out of control and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t _breathe_.

“Richard – Richard _Parker?”_

Richard’s face was impassive, unreadable. “Gosh, it’s good to see you, Peter. You’re so grown up.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t – I don’t – how are you – I mean – “

His words were cut off by a stifling hug. Richard had his arms wrapped tightly around Peter. “I’m sorry Peter. I never wanted to leave you.”

Peter couldn’t breathe. His dad was hugging him. His _dad_ was hugging him. Shouldn’t this be an incredible moment? Shouldn’t he be thrilled? Shouldn’t he be happy?

There shouldn’t be a sick feeling in his stomach. Why did he feel so sick?

As if electrocuted, he pulled himself away from Richard. For a moment they stared at each other with Peter breathing heavily. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up. Something wasn’t right here.

He turned neatly on his heel and headed back towards the house. There was no way he could handle this right now. He just couldn’t do it. All he wanted was Tony – or something to explain how the _hell_ his father had come back from the dead.

“Peter!” Richard called from behind. “Come on, kiddo!”

Tony called him kiddo. “Don’t,” Peter whispered to himself. Looking up, he saw Happy standing at the top of the stairs. With one look at Peter’s face he rushed towards the teen. Peter rushed over as well.

“Happy,” Peter gasped. Within seconds the bodyguard crossed the garden to Peter, taking the kid by his shoulders.

“All you all right? Look at me,” he took Peter’s face in his hands. “Peter, breathe!”

“Look, I didn’t come to cause any trouble –“ said Richard, striding forward with his hands raised.

Happy pulled his gun out effortlessly. “Stay right where you are, buddy. Not another step.”

“What in the _hell_ is going on out here?”

Three heads snapped around to see Tony Stark running down the stairs, looking absolutely mutinous. Happy kept his gun trained on Richard.

Tony came to Peter’s side and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Who the hell are you?” Tony’s voice was scary serious and forceful. Peter looked up at him.

“He says he’s my father,” whispered Peter, still struggling to breathe.

Tony craned his neck to see Peter’s face. “What was that?”

“My –“ Peter swallowed. “My father. He said he’s my father.”

“I am,” Richard said desperately, taking a tentative step forward.

“Don’t you dare move!” shouted Happy. Richard’s face turned frustrated.

“Well now you’re making a goddamn scene, man! Could we all just – be calm for a second?”

Peter felt like throwing up. He pushed himself further into Tony’s side. “I – I don’t understand. How could you be –“

Richard’s face looked earnest. “I’m so sorry, Peter. There’s so much to say – so many excuses I can give. I’m just sorry, kid.”

Peter’s breath hitched. Tony let out a dry laugh. “You’re really going with this? You’re saying that you’re this kid’s biological father?”

“I think he is,” said Peter. “I mean, I’ve seen photos of him – and videos. Tony I don’t feel –“

“You’re his father, and you thought this was the place to make that big reveal?” interrupted Tony, his voice growing louder. “Not in private, but at a party filled with reporters? That’s convenient.”

“Now look –“

Peter swayed. Yeah he really was going to puke. Why did he feel so sick? “Tony I don’t feel good.”

Tony took Peter’s chin in his hand. “I can see that kiddo. No worries.” He looked pointedly at Richard. “We’re leaving.”

“I’m not leaving without talking to my son.”

Happy stepped in front of Peter and Tony. “Yeah you are buddy. Just shut up.”

Tony steered Peter away. “Keep an eye of him while we head back to the car, Hap. You can schedule an appointment with one of my assistants, Parker – asshole – whoever you are.”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Peter keeled and vomited all over the grass.

*

“Drink this, Pete. It’ll help.”

Peter was curled on his side in his hotel bed. Tony had just gotten off the phone with Pepper and was now handing Peter some clear soda.

“Thanks,” said Peter, gingerly taking a sip. “I think I’m okay now, just – not expected that’s all.”

Tony sat on the side of Peter’s bed. “Yeah, no kidding. What an idiot – ambushing you like that. It would freak anybody out.”

Peter took another gulp of his soda. “He’s really my dad, isn’t he? Tony what am I going to _do_?” He winced as his voice cracked.

“ _You_ don’t have to do _anything,”_ said Tony firmly. He pulled Peter up by the arm and into a sitting position. “I’ve already talked about everything with Pepper. She’s running background checks as we speak. We’re going to figure everything out.”

“I just feel weird,” Peter explained, looking in Tony’s eyes. “Like, when I saw him I felt weird. I can’t explain it.”

He really couldn’t. He didn’t understand why he felt the way he did. Shouldn’t it be kind of exciting to see his dad again after nearly 10 years? Why did he feel so anxious and nervous? Why was he _afraid?_

“Hey,” Tony’s voice was soft, careful. “Just breathe. The plane’s getting prepared right now. We’ll be home before you know it. Don’t worry, kiddo. You’re not going to have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Peter looked down at his hands, unable to look at Tony’s strained expression any longer.

*

“I’m telling you guys, I’ve never seen the kid look like that. I don’t like it. At all.”

It was four in the morning. Tony had pulled a kitchen stool into his living room and sat facing his friends on the couch. Vision, Rhodey, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Wanda, and Steve all looked on earnestly. They’d woken up from their rooms in the compound when they heard that Tony had come home early. Peter had gone to bed quickly, not wanting to talk to anyone. But Tony stayed up to explain what was going on and the Avengers were just as surprised as he was.

“Does Peter – ya know – _remember_ his parents much?” Clint asked slowly, breaking the silence. Tony shrugged.

“They left him with May and Ben when he was barely six, so I don’t know. I remember a few things from before I was six.”

“Maybe Richard was a bad father. That’s why he felt nervous around him.” tried Clint.

Tony bit the inside of his cheek. “That would make a lot of sense.”

Steve scoffed. “No it doesn’t. Peter was just surprised, that’s all. He was caught off guard. This doesn’t have to be some sinister situation. This could actually be really good for Peter.”

There was a beat where all the Avengers stared at Steve for a moment. He just shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

“Richard sounds like a little biotch to me,” piped up Natasha. “I mean, where the hell’s he been all this time? Couldn’t even give his kid a phone call?”

“Honestly!” Rhodey added. “I mean, May died eight months ago! Obviously Parker’s been keeping tabs on Peter. He knows she died.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Tony remarked thoughtfully. “Damn, what an asshole.”

“You aren’t being fair,” Steve argued. “You just hate him because he might take Peter away from you.”

Tony stared at him coldly. “Listen Captain Shitbutt –“

“Captain Shitbutt?” came a youthful voice from the hallway. “Can I use that one at school tomorrow?”

Peter’s small form came slinking into the living room. His face was pale and there were gray circles under his eyes. But he had that slight smirking smile on his face that was there when he was in a joking mood. It made Tony’s heart lift a little.

“Kid,” said Tony wearily. “It’s four in the morning. You need to be getting some sleep.”

“I slept the entire plane ride, and then some. Plus you shitbutts don’t exactly talk quietly. Enhanced senses, you know.”

Clint and Rhodey snickered. Tony ran a hand down his face. “All right. Awesome. Now that we’ve established that I’m a terrible influence –“

“How you doing Peter?” asked Bruce softly, cutting Tony off. Peter moved over to Tony on his stool and leaned his arm against his shoulder.

“Just fabuloso. Having family members resurrected from the dead, ya know? The good stuff.”

He got a couple chuckles. Steve looked slightly annoyed. “This is serious, Peter.” He expressed.

Peter looked over at Tony who just raised his eyebrows and then back at Steve. “Is it? I had no idea.”

Steve opened his mouth to retort but Rhodey cut him off. “All _right_ you guys. Come on.”

Peter sucked in a breath like he was going to speak again but must have decided otherwise because he let it out with a huff. The kid never had much of an arguing spirit in him. Peter and Steve butted heads almost every time they were together but Peter never went very far. The two were just extremely similar in too many ways, but Peter didn’t care enough to fight back. That was something Tony really admired about Peter. He wasn’t one for contention.

_They’d been training for hours. Tony noticed the thick sheen of sweat coating Peter’s forehead and neck. Peter and Tony had decided two weeks ago that it would be best for the entire team if they just knew that Tony’s new kid was Spider-Man. The Avengers had just been beginning to trust each other again, and it didn’t seem right to keep such a huge secret when that was going on._

_The entire team fell in love with Peter. They adored him. Tony could see that easily, and he could also see that Steve showed his affection for the kid in different ways than the rest of the Avengers._

_“Pick it up, Peter!” Cap shouted. “You’ve gotta move quicker!”_

_Peter was horrible at hand to hand. He was just a kid after all. He’d never had a lick of formal training in his life. As a result, they always had Peter paired with Natasha, who kicked his ass every time._

_Natasha spiraled up towards Peter’s head and the kid wasn’t quick enough. Her calves went on either sides of his neck and he was flipped onto the floor with a loud thud. It had happened a couple other times that afternoon, but this time Peter stayed down._

_“All right!” Tony called loudly from the other side of the room. “That’s enough. Kiddo’s done for the day.”_

_Natasha extended her hand towards Peter. He took it, his face cherry red. Her expression softened. “Nothing to be upset about, bug. You did an awesome job today.”_

_Cap came striding over. Peter backed up into Tony’s side._

_“Go again Peter.” Steve ordered._

_Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Um, pretty sure I just said he’s done.”_

_“And I say he needs to go again. Until he doesn’t stay down.”_

_“Well, he’s my kid. Not yours.”_

_“Yeah he is. And you coddle your kid way too much.”_

_You coddle your kid way too much._

Tony blinked at the memory. He looked over at Peter who was still leaning against his shoulder. Maybe it was true. Maybe he did spoil Peter a little too much. But what was wrong with that? Steve wanted Peter to give Richard a shot and Tony didn’t want that. There was potential that Richard would be harmful to Peter and Tony would rather that be avoided at all costs.

“You don’t gotta worry about anything, kid,” said Tony. “Honest.”

Peter sighed and began to walk off towards the door to the balcony. “I wish that was true.”

The kid pushed himself out the door and shut it behind him. The Avengers looked after him sadly.

*

“Penny for your thoughts Petey?”

The sun was rising over the compound. Peter was situated in one of his favorite spots on the roof with his knees pulled up to his chest. He looked up at Tony.

“Just a penny?”

Tony crouched down, facing Peter. “Fifty bucks?”

Peter scoffed. “Sorry I walked out on y’all back there. I just needed to be alone for a bit.”

Tony just nodded. “Background checks came back from Pepper. Couldn’t find a single thing on Richard Parker. Just his birth, school certificates, and marriage. Nothing from after his supposed death. It worries me, Peter.”

Peter swallowed with his eyes set firmly on the horizon. “So you – so you think this isn’t good? You don’t think maybe he – just – wants me now?”

Tony gazed into Peter’s hopeful, naïve face and felt his heart drop. He was so good, so kind, and so trusting. It’s why Tony ‘coddled’ him as Steve put. Because how could he not? He did it because Peter deserved for everything to go right in his life.

“Aw, Peter,” said Tony, pulling the kid close. “Who _wouldn’t_ want you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating this pretty regularly. Like every few days. All the ideas are just in my head and I need to get the story out. So don't worry about waiting too long :)  
> Please leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter. It flowed out easily and was fun to let out. Thanks so much for all your comments! It really means a lot!

_Peter lay down with his head hanging off the couch and legs sticking up in the air. It was January and May had died in October. Christmas had been one of the most stressful times of Tony’s entire life. He had been so worried about keeping Peter busy that it nearly made him go completely gray. Every night of Christmas break Peter would plaster a happy face on all day, but when Tony walked by his bedroom at night he could hear soft sniffles._

_Luckily Christmas was over now, so Peter’s wound didn’t have to be picked at any longer. Now he could just start healing again, and Tony was very relieved._

_“Oh man, I bet she did it! She totally did it!” Peter’s voice rang out at the TV. He excitedly kicked his legs back and forth._

_“Nah she didn’t,” said Natasha, rolling her eyes. “She’s covering up for someone.”_

_“I bet she did it,” said Wanda, grinning at Peter’s reactions._

_Peter was now jumping up and down on the couch excitedly. “Oh man and now Betty and Jughead are gonna get together oh man!” Jump. “Oh man!” Now he was crawling up the walls and onto the ceiling. Tony watched from the kitchen doorway, amused._

_“Okay, who gave the boy caffeine this time?” asked Tony, glancing at Peter hanging from the ceiling._

_Natasha looked over at Tony and shrugged. “Wasn’t either of us, and we’re the only ones here right now. Clint’s with the family and who knows where the rest of the guys have been.”_

_Tony stood directly under Peter, who was letting blood rush to his head. “You know,” he told the kid. “I’ve seen you do this a million times and it still stresses me out.”_

_“Tony I’ve been watching Riverdale for five hours!”_

_“I’m so proud.”_

_“Watch it with us!”_

_“You know – tempting. But you and I have got somewhere to be. Come on down, you’re giving me anxiety.”_

_Peter rolled his eyes and let himself go from the ceiling, flipping over onto his feet just as he was about to bash his head on the floor. Tony nearly passed out._

_Natasha and Wanda were laughing their heads off at Tony’s expression. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he nearly shouted at Peter, who was smirking._

_“Just trying to give you less anxiety!” said Peter cheekily._

_“You’re a snot. Come on, car’s waiting for us.”_

_Peter followed behind Tony like a puppy all the way to the car. Once inside he sat in the middle seat instead of the opposite window. Peter only ever did that if he was having a happy day, which weren’t too frequent anymore._

_Tony squinted at Peter. “That’s where you’re gonna sit?”_

_Peter’s leg was jiggling spastically. “Yeah! Because we’re friends!”_

_Tony rolled his eyes. “How much coffee did you drink?”_

_“_ So _much, Tony.”_

_“Damn it.”_

_“But are we friends?”_

_“Cute. Sure, we’re friends. In fact, we’re about to go become best friends right now.”_

_Peter’s leg went still. “Where are we going?”_

_Tony tried his best to stay casual. “Temporary guardianship expires next week. I’m going to go and sign adoption papers right now and they need you present.”_

_It was as if all the coffee drained out of Peter’s body. His color faded. “Oh.” He nearly whispered._

_Tony was taken aback. “Just oh? I thought we talked about this and everything was good with you.”_

_Peter nodded quickly. “We – we did. I just – I thought – I – well, I guess I don’t know what I thought. But it’s good – it’s cool. I’m happy.”_

_Tony gave Peter a long searching look and said quietly, “Well, that’s all I really want, kiddo.”_

*

“Tony you have 37 missed calls from Richard Parker.”

“Cool.”

Pepper’s heels clicked after Tony all around the house. She was beautiful, with her strawberry hair pulled up in a ponytail and small pencil skirt. Her pen tapped against a clipboard impatiently.

“You’re going to need to call him back.”

“I don’t _need_ to do anything.”

Pepper picked up the pace, following Tony up the stairs. “Yes you do, Tony! If you keep avoiding this you’re going to have a fat lawsuit on your hands!”

“I love fat lawsuits.”

“Well I don’t. And I don’t think Peter does either!”

Tony continued to rush up the stairs. Pepper caught him by the forearm. “Tony – would you just – _listen_ to me for a second?”

He stopped mid-step and paused for a beat. Slowly he turned to face Pepper, his face pained. She softened. Her hand moved down to his. They had broken up again recently, but the fondness for him never faded. She didn’t really know how to live unless she was taking care of Tony.

Pepper spoke carefully. “Look, if we just – handle this maturely, it could turn out all right. Richard is his father – the tests were a match –“

“Who cares?” Tony retorted. “Peter doesn’t like him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He _threw up_ when he met Richard.”

Pepper let out a heavy breath. “It’s because he’s Peter. He gets nervous about everything. He isn’t an exactly emotionally stable kid.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Would you please just –“ She held out her cell phone. “Call him back? Please.”

A sigh. Tony’s jaw stiffened. But he extended his hand.

*

“I’m telling you guys, it’s just one thing after another.”

They sat on the bleachers in P.E. class. Peter and Michelle both had their legs crossed up on the benches while Ned kept his legs stretched out. The three had been absolutely inseparable lately, with Michelle having learned about Peter being Spiderman after May died.

Michelle bit her thumbnail. “It does sound weird, I’ll admit. You’ve got a good thing going with Stark. If I were you I’d keep this Richard dad guy to the side. You know, start getting to know him the best you can but hang on to Stark.”

“Well, yeah, of course. I mean – I wasn’t planning on leaving Tony or anything. I don’t even know my dad. I can’t live with someone I don’t know.”

“But you _do_ know him,” Ned chimed in. “Don’t you? Didn’t you live with him until you were six?”

Peter shrugged. “Well, yeah but I don’t really remember much.”

“Really?” asked Michelle, looking confused. “You don’t?”

Peter shook his head. It confused him too. There was a block of some sort in his mind when it came to his early childhood – and he couldn’t quite explain it. He didn’t think much of it before – he thought maybe he just had a bad memory. But now that he had actually met his father he realized that he really didn’t have any memories with him at all. There was no recollection.

Michelle and Ned exchanged a glance at Peter’s silence. Peter felt slightly guilty for always dragging his problems into their lives. Something in the back of his head told him that they didn’t mind and loved to be there for him. Yet, he couldn’t help but also think that they were normal teenagers that probably wanted to worry about normal teenage things.

“It’s not a big deal,” stated Peter. “I’ll just –“

“Peter.” Michelle interrupted boldly. “It’s a big deal.”

Peter gazed at them both helplessly for a moment, but was saved from having to come up with an answer by the bell. He sighed in relief, grateful for the tedious school day being over. Today was Spider-Man patrol day, which he always looked forward to. Since May’s death Peter hadn’t gone out patrolling as much. It was difficult to muster up the energy.

They lost Michelle when she went off to the locker room, so it was just Ned and Peter bounding down the school steps when they saw it. Both boys stopped in their tracks at the sight of Richard Parker leaning easily against a slick red convertible. Parker caught sight of his son and gave him a small wave.

Peter glanced at Ned who was chewing on his lip. “Did that guy wave at you, Peter?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Is that – is that _him_?”

Peter’s voice wasn’t coming out right. “Yeah – yeah it is.”

“ _Dude!”_ Ned gasped. “What do you think he wants?”

The sick feeling was in Peter’s stomach again. “I don’t know but – I guess I can’t just ditch him.” Keeping his eyes trained on Richard he strode over towards the convertible.

Richard had his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey.” He said quietly.

The June sun beat down onto Peter’s head and into his eyes, forcing him to squint up at his father. “Um. Hey?”

“I thought –“ Richard gestured awkwardly towards the car. “Maybe we could get a bite to eat or something?”

Peter looked into his dad’s face, taking him in the best he could. He had all the looks of a business man. Tan dress pants with a white shirt and tie. Hair carefully gelled over and eyes without much emotion. But his voice had sounded earnest and the car was cool. Plus, well, he couldn’t avoid this forever.

“Sure.” Said Peter bluntly.

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Really?”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged, trying to sound blithe. “Why not?”

And then, for the first time, a bright smile broke out onto Richard’s face.

*

“You still put pickles on your sandwich like that?” asked Richard, amused.

Peter glanced down at his sandwich that he’d completely covered in pickles. “Still?”

“Yeah. You always did that as a kid. I thought it was cute.”

Peter pursed his lips so he didn’t smile. Richard continued. “Looks like you didn’t hit your growth spurt quite yet, either.”

“Hey! You’re just tall!”

Richard chucked. “You still bite your nails, too.”

“Everyone bites their nails.”

“You did it like crazy as a kid though. Your mother tried everything to get you to stop.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of his mother. “Well, I guess I haven’t changed much.”

Richard grinned. “Eh, not too much. Six or fourteen, you’re still the same Peter.”

Peter stopped on the sidewalk. “Um, I’m fifteen actually.”

“Oh –“ Richard sat stiffly on a park bench close to the docks. “But, you just turned fifteen, right?”

Heat rushed onto the back of Peter’s neck. “Actually I turn sixteen next month.” He sat down next to Richard and looked out at the boats in the bay.

“Right,” said Richard uncomfortably. Peter started picking at the bread on his sandwich, wincing at the sick feeling that kept swelling. Disappointment welled up inside. He didn’t want to say anything else. Part of him wanted to be super excited about the potential here, but another part said not to get his hopes up. Because if he lost anything more right now, it really might be the end of him.

“Look, Peter –“ Richard turned to face Peter fully. “I’ve screwed up when it comes to you, okay? I get that. But I’m here now. I’ve changed and I want to make things right.”

“How are you going to do that?” Peter pleaded desperately, hating how his throat was clogging up. “I mean, where have you even _been?”_

Richard took a bite of his sandwich. “I’m a scientist, Peter. I help with the government. Something happened out on a mission and we lost your mom. It was too dangerous for me to come back to you, and the country needed me.”

“You couldn’t have _called_ or – I don’t know. Come to your brother’s funeral?”

“I went. I just didn’t let myself be seen.”

Peter gaped. “You were there? You couldn’t have –“

“The point is –“ interrupted Richard. “I’m back. A lot of things have cleared up and the first thing I did was come back for _you_. I’m your family Peter. Your real family. And I want you to come and stay with me and be my kid again.” He squinted his eyes at Peter’s lack of a reaction. “I mean, isn’t that exciting to you? Doesn’t it make you at least a little happy?”

Peter’s head whipped up at his word choice. “Does it – does it make me happy?” He wrung his hands. “Well, I guess it _could_.”

Richard nodded enthusiastically. “That’s my goal here, kid. Gosh, I could tell you I’m sorry ten thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough. Peter I’m –“

“You’re sorry. I get it.” Peter stood up. “Dude, I’m a pretty easygoing kid. You wouldn’t know that because you don’t even know my goddamn age, but I am. I’m going to forgive you. I’m going to look past this. But not today. You’re pushing too hard. You think everything can be all normal right away when it _can’t_ right now, okay? Just – not yet.”

“I was hoping you would come stay with me,” Richard expressed, sounding a little distressed. “I didn’t think – I mean – you’d really want to stay with _Stark_ instead? I’m your father.”

Peter’s mouth hung open at the man. Had he heard anything he’d just said? With his head shaking slightly he backed away from the park bench. “Yeah, well. At least Tony knows when I was born. I mean weren’t you _there_? How could you even – I don’t know –“

He couldn’t speak anymore. Apparently Richard couldn't either, because they both sat there quietly on the bench until his father offered to take him home.

*

Peter looked like he’d fallen through thin ice when he walked into the living room. Tony quickly ended the call he’d been on and gestured for Peter to sit next to him on the couch.

“Hey kid, it’s pretty late.” Tony reached up his hand and pulled Peter next to him. “How was patrol?”

Peter blinked rapidly. “Um – patrol? Oh – yeah. I didn’t go on patrol.”

Tony started. “You didn’t? Where have you –“

“My dad got me from school. We got something to eat.”

“He _what?_ ”

Peter swallowed thickly. “Yeah, picked me up from school. We walked around the docks.”

Tony looked aghast. “This is ridiculous. I _just_ talked to him today and we agreed that he would come by here to meet with you.”

“Well, I guess he didn’t feel like that anymore.”

Peter felt tired to the bone. He hadn’t eaten much at all, his sleeping patterns were off, and his brain felt like it was going a hundred miles an hour. Letting his head fall back on the couch felt like a huge weight off his shoulders.

“Hey,” Tony shook Peter’s arm. “You okay? Did it go okay?”

Peter took in Tony’s worried expression and realized that his guardian was probably feeling about as exhausted and he was right now. Not wanting to cause him any more worry he said, “Yeah. It was – fine. I mean, as fine as could be expected.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Tony’s hand still on his arm. Peter rolled his head over to the side.

“Tony?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

Peter let out a breath. Tony’s voice was so genuine, so caring that it seemed like it could just take all of Peter’s worries away. And he almost let it. But then he remembered that for some strange reason he had memories in his head that seemed forgotten, his father had shown up out of nowhere, wanting Peter to live with him. And Peter felt strangely obligated to, even if he didn’t want to because Richard had somehow made Peter feel guilty about himself at the park. Somehow Peter felt like if he didn’t give Richard what he wanted, _he_ was in the wrong.

Blinking away an annoying tear Peter sighed. “I’m _so_ tired.”

Tony pulled the kid to him and Peter did everything not to let out a sob. Instead he just clutched Tony tightly, feeling everything well up inside of him. The anxiety and fear and sadness and nagging thought of _why couldn’t he figure out how to be happy?_

“I’ve got ya kiddo,” said Tony softly. “You’re good here. I’m your constant, remember?” Peter nodded against his shoulder. “Damn right. Don’t you forget it.”

Tony pulled away and took in Peter’s face. “Just lay down, Pete. I’ll turn on a movie for us, okay?”

Nothing could sound better in the whole world. Peter curled in on himself and laid against Tony’s side. “Don’t you have work or something to do tonight, though?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled.

Tony scoffed while turning on Netflix. His hand was firmly on Peter’s now sideways shoulder. “Me? Work? Damn it kid I’m just a playboy, billionaire, genius, and philanthropist. What could I possibly have to do?”

Peter giggled. “You’re right. Obviously your main priority right now is watching Netflix.”

“There you go. Watch Netflix. Be with my kid. Main priorities, right there.”

Peter smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE let me know what you thought of the chapter! I really really want to know! Thanks guys :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you SO much for all the comments! I love seeing you guys guess at what you think is going to happen! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

A few weeks passed. After a two hour shouting match between Tony and Richard over the phone, it was agreed that Richard could spend time with Peter every other day after school. For the most part it hadn’t been too bad. They would just walk around the park or go to some of Peter’s favorite places to eat.

Every time Peter saw his father it got a little more natural. He did notice, however, that he was never really himself when they were together. He was a lot more timid and quiet – almost nervous. His anxiety had been off the charts lately, with and without Richard. It was almost impossible to sit in class, he’d started digging his nails into his palms until they nearly bled, and little clumps of hair sometimes came out in the shower. It had gotten to the point where there was always a pit in his stomach.

Something was wrong. He was hardly sleeping at night. When he did, he’d wake up suffocated in his blankets and covered in sweat. There were dreams, but they were just of him somewhere really dark and freezing. He had no idea what was going on in them but they terrified him to no end.

“I hope things are good for you at Stark’s place,” said Richard suddenly while the two strolled through Central Park. “You seem fidgety a lot.”

“Oh – oh no. It’s been – been great with him. It’s –“

“I mean, I get it. You don’t want to talk bad about him cause he’s _Tony Stark_ and all. I’ve met him a couple times. He’s a pretty manipulative guy.”

“Actually – he’s really not too –“

“I just feel like you would be a lot happier if you were with me,” interrupted Richard. “Don’t you?”

Peter swallowed stiffly. He’d been able to tell Richard a little while ago how he was really feeling and what would be best, but now it seemed like he just couldn’t _speak_ around the man. The anxiety was too stifling. He had this strange desire to please Richard, impress him even.

“Well, I don’t know – I mean I think –“

“Just trust me, kid,” Richard placed his hand on Peter’s back. The boy felt his heart rate quicken. “Do you trust me?”

Peter couldn’t answer. He just plummeted further.

*

“Peter, tell me what you want for your birthday and I’ll unblock Game of Thrones.”

Clint laughed from inside the living room. “You’re parent goals, Tony.”

Peter rolled his eyes and slid up onto the counter. “I told you already. An ice cream cake.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“What?” Peter laughed, twisting his hands in his lap. “That’s what I want!”

“Well I don’t – hey, what are you doing?” Tony strode forward to where Peter was situated on the countertop and grabbed one of his hands. The teenager instantly jerked it away instantly.

“Nothing.” Peter stated defensively.

“If it was nothing you’d let me see.”

“It’s _nothing_ , Tony – “

“Peter.” Tony’s voice was strong, final. It was one he used with everyone, but hardly ever Peter. Shakily, Peter extended his palm.

“It’s not a big deal,” the teen said quickly and Tony examined the bleeding crescents on Peter’s hands. “They’ll heal quick, honestly –“

“They’ll? You do this often?” Tony’s tone was collected but slightly shaky.

Peter shook his head. “No – well – I don’t know. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time. All of the sudden I’ll look down and my hand is bleeding.”

Tony looked up into Peter’s face. His eyes flicked back and forth to Peter’s forehead down to his chin. It was almost as if he was trying to read his mind.

“You gotta help me out here, kiddo,” said Tony tiredly. “You gotta talk to me. Something’s been up. You’re stuttering, you aren’t sleeping, you haven’t been – yourself. Why are you doing this –“ he gestured to Peter’s palm. “To yourself? What’s going –“

“I’m anxious,” Peter whispered. “I – I don’t know – I – Tony, I don’t know why but I’ve been really anxious lately. It’s bad. I can’t even breathe half the time.”

“Did it start when Richard showed up?”

There it was. The question that Peter had been too afraid to ask himself. He knew it was probably true, he knew there was something off about Richard. But the vision of having a real, biological father that cared about him outweighed every con that stared him blatantly in the face.

So he lied.

“No – no it started a little while before.”

“Hm,” Tony pursed his lips as he looked back at Peter’s palm. “Well –“

“I know what I want for my birthday!” Peter interrupted.

Tony looked skeptical. “Don’t change the subject here, Pete.”

Peter nodded earnestly. Yeah, that was exactly what he wanted to do. “No, I mean it. I thought of something. I mean besides the ice cream cake.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s voice got a little more excited. “You change your mind about all those cars in the garage?”

“Gosh, no –“ said Peter with a little laugh. Tony’s shoulders slumped. “I mean – it’s a nice thought but I really just wanna go out sailing for the day. That’s what sounds good to me.”

“Really?” asked Tony, sounding a little surprised. “We could do that any day.”

Peter shrugged. “We haven’t gone in a while. That’s what I wanna do. Just me and you.” He looked down at his feet. “And maybe a new pair of converse, too.”

Tony looked at Peter’s shoes and saw the ratty tears along the sides. “Jeez! Kid! You’ve been walking around in those? How can you even –“

Peter let out a relieved breath.

*

6:52 a.m. Richard Parker: Peter! Happy birthday son!

6:52 a.m. Richard Parker: See, I know when it is 

6:59 a.m. Richard Parker: What are your plans today? I took the whole day off for you. Anything you want.

7:10 a.m. Richard Parker: You’re not going to choose that Stark over your own dad, right?

7:13 a.m. Richard Parker: I couldn’t see you doing that.

Peter flipped through the text messages on his phone, wishing he had never seen them in the first place. What was he supposed to do about Richard? He had already made plans with Tony. But if he told Richard that, he might get angry and think Peter was thoughtless.

His hand shook as he texted back,

7:20 a.m. Peter Parker: Maybe another day we can celebrate? I don’t have anything going on tomorrow.

He winced at the sharp pain in his palm. “Damn it,” Blood trickled down onto his wrist. “I need to cut my nails or something.”

A flurry of loud knocks on his bedroom door nearly made Peter jump a foot in the air. “Peter!” came Tony’s muffled voice from the other side. “Peter! Peter! Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peterrrrrrr!”

Peter flung the door open. “ _What?”_

He gasped when he was practically tackled into a hug. “It’s your birthday! Happy happy happy happy –“

“Good lord,” laughed Peter, his mood lifting drastically. He slipped out of Tony’s arms. “Are you on drugs?”

“Are you on drugs?” Tony mimicked in Peter’s high voice.

“Mature.”

“Come on!” Tony dragged Peter by the arm. “GUYS! It’s my precious little shit’s birthday!”

Peter’s laugh rang through the hallway. He heard Natasha groan loudly. “Tony!”

“What? He’s sixteen now. He’s graduated to finer cursing.”

Peter was pulled into the gigantic kitchen where a majority of the Avengers meandered around. Natasha, Clint, Steve, Wanda, Vision and Rhodey were rummaging through cupboards, setting out dishes, and flipping pancakes. Peter grinned at the sight of them all making breakfast. It just seemed so – _normal._

“So this is earth’s mightiest heroes?” said Peter cheekily. “Making a birthday breakfast?”

Clint ruffled Peter’s hair. “Happy birthday, kid.”

Peter smoothed his hair out. “Yeah – thanks –“

Pepper came gracefully from a corner in the kitchen. Peter blinked happily at the sight of her. He liked Pepper. She kissed the top of his head. “Happy birthday, love.”

“You feel any different?” asked Steve, clapping him on the back.

Peter shrugged. “Do you at your birthdays? What will you be turning this year? Four hundred?”

Clint scoffed. Steve shook his head. “Sweet kid you’ve got there, Stark,” 

“He’s a keeper for sure,” said Tony fondly. “Hey, make sure to make my pancake mostly chocolate chips. God Rhodey you _know_ this by now –“

*

“Lucky you’ve got a June birthday, Pete,” expressed Tony from the head of the boat, looking out at the beautiful weather. “I don’t see how it could be a better day.”

Peter grinned and let the sun hit his face. He drank it in, willing it to warm up his insides, and lighten some of his feelings. “Yeah – it’s perfect.” He took a deep breath in, begging his lungs to just let him be calm. Every time he tried to be happy, Richard popped into his mind. He’d been receiving scathing messages all afternoon from the man. Clearly he wasn’t happy with getting the boot.

“You good?” Asked Tony, twisting around. “You seem tense.”

“Yeah – uh – yeah. Good. Just thinking about the late work I’ll have to do for today.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“What?” Peter defended, smiling. “I like being a good student!”

“You know, I was a shit student. And look at me now!”

“You were not a bad student, I bet you were at the top of all your classes!”

“Well, yeah, but I was still a rotten kid.”

“Well, no surprise there –“ He spluttered and was cut off by a heavy wave of icy water hitting his face. It was _freezing_ and seemed to wash through to his bones, taking away any warmth from the sun. Suddenly Peter’s world turned completely black. Black – suffocating – cold – afraid – lonely –

_“This is the last one, kid,”_

_An impossibly cold sensation shot into his arm and throughout his veins. A child screamed._

_“This is the last one.”_

_Another prick of cold. Sobs._

_“This is the last one.”_

_“You just –“ The child was gasping. “You just said that.”_

_“You’re right.” Said a gravelly voice. “Honestly, there probably won’t be a last one. Not for you.”_

“Peter! Peter!”

He was gasping desperately for air. Was he underwater? Was he dreaming? Why couldn’t he _breathe?_

Something shook him. “Peter! Look at me, look at Tony! You’ve gotta breathe, come on kiddo –“

He was pulled forward until his chest rested on something. Tony’s voice rang out again. “Feel how I’m breathing? Peter? Feel that? Just try and match it, come on. You can do it. Peter –“

Tony’s chest rose and fell slowly. He exaggerated each puff. It took several minutes for Peter to calm his breathing even a fraction, but eventually it slowed.

“There you go, you’re good – you’re good –“ Tony kept his hand securely between Peter’s shoulder blades. Peter rested his head on Tony’s collarbone, squeezing his eyes shut.

What _was_ that? Had he just had a panic attack? Over water being splashed in this face? He’d heard voices in his head, he knew. A memory was there, just within reach. He wanted to remember it all, but trying might set him over again.

“Well –“ Peter gasped. “I’m really grown up for a sixteen year old, huh?”

“That’s not even funny, Peter. Just keep breathing.”

Peter clutched tightly to Tony who made him feel a little warmer, a little safer. He wished that it could just stay like this all the time. Just Tony and Peter, with the Avengers and Rhodey and Pepper in the background. They’d all been so kind, so thoughtful towards him. But now Richard was here, his dark memories were here, and it didn’t look like either of them were going away soon. He wouldn’t be allowed to stay in his little safe bubble forever. Eventually he would have to leave and be with Richard. The thought made him want to bawl his eyes out.

Something told him that maybe Richard was the answer. That he’d been searching and searching for some stable happiness and maybe he was just not giving Richard a chance to be that. But as he sat with Tony, who had successfully calmed his breathing, he wasn’t completely sold.

“You’ll be all right, Peter,” Tony soothed. “I promise, you’re going to be all right.”

*

Tony whisked everyone away when he and Peter came through the doors of the compound. It was only around seven at night, but Peter said he wanted to go to bed and Tony was willing to let him. The kid looked like he needed sleep and a few more long deep breaths.

“Okay,” he said, sitting Peter down on his bed. “I’m just going to be right out there, you hear?” Peter nodded fervently, keeping his eyes down. “You just tell FRIDAY if you need anything, okay? I’m not busy, it’s no problem.”

“Right,” Peter practically whispered. His voice shook.

“Hey,” Tony kneeled down. “Look at me for a sec.”

Peter raised his eyes. They were red-rimmed. Tony winced.

“You sure you don’t wanna come watch a movie or something? I can make everyone else go away.”

Peter shook his head. “No – no I just wanna – I just –“

“Okay, okay,” Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s okay, no worries.”

Peter looked completely miserable. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“Nope, none of that. You don’t need to be sorry. God, kid, please –“ He placed his hand on the side of Peter’s face. “You know you’re a good kid, right?”

“Yeah – sure –“

“Peter. You’re a _good_ kid.”

A half smile rose on Peter’s face and his eyes brightened slightly. Tony stood up. “Get some sleep, kiddo. I’ll be here.”

“Right – thanks, Tony – really –“

Tony smiled. “Night, Pete,”

Peter curled up on his bed. “Goodnight.”

Tony waited until he’d made it into the kitchen to bury his face in his hands. There was sweat on the back of his neck and forehead. He whipped open the freezer, hoping for an ice pack, and then froze.

There sat Peter’s freaking ice cream cake, untouched. The kid couldn’t even enjoy his sixteenth birthday because something was up, something was weird and Tony had no idea.

He slammed the freezer door shut in frustration. A terrible thought came to his head of what if he was the problem? What if Peter didn’t like living in this big compound? What if he didn’t like the press following him around? Well, he knew Peter didn’t like that. That’s why no one knew that Tony had officially adopted him. Peter wouldn’t be able to go to normal school anymore if that happened.

What if _Tony_ was the issue? He’d been so busy blaming Richard that he had completely overlooked himself.

“Tony?” came an even voice from the doorway. It drew Tony from his thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

Tony scrubbed at his face with his hands and took in Steve Rogers who looked on worriedly. “I don’t know Steve. I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know what it is. What am I doing _wrong?”_

*

It was a quarter past midnight. Peter had never even fallen asleep. He still was curled to the side, with eyes staring wide at the wall. He knew what he needed to do, but god, he sure didn’t want to.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position and slid his shoes off. His eye caught sight of something rather large wrapped on his nightstand. He must have overlooked it in his panic.

Reaching forward, he grabbed the gift from the table. On the top was a sticky note that read,

_Petey,_

_Well, here ya go. The most boring-est birthday present ever. You could’ve had anything in the world. A sports car, a boat, an island, a movie theater, a pony. But you’re not like that, are you? You don’t ask for stuff like that and it makes me think more of you every day._

_I couldn’t stand just getting you a pair of shoes for your birthday, so I got you some in every single color I could find at the store. That way you can like – mix and match, I don’t know what the kids do these days. But, yeah. I love ya, kid. I think you’re the best._

_Have a party with your shoes,_

_Tony_

Peter’s heart swelled at the note. He opened the package and sure enough it was filled with about ten different colors of converse. He shook his head, smiling.

He placed his note safely in his desk drawer and quietly padded out of his bedroom. There was someone he needed to talk to. He just had to figure this out. It was impossible to take these memories banging at his brain any longer, pleading to be let out. It seemed better to just remember then have to wonder at the unknown.

Silently, he creaked open a bedroom door and slunk inside. A mess of long brown hair hung off the side of a bed. Peter shook the woman by the shoulder.

“Wanda,” he rasped. “Wanda, wake up, it’s Peter.”

“Hm?” she noised sleepily. “Peter? Are you all right?”

Twisting over on her side, she turned her bedside lamp on. Her pretty face looked confused. Peter never came to this side of the compound. Tony and Peter had their place that they lived and they stayed there. Peter didn’t go wandering around to the other Avengers quarters.

“Yeah I’m fine – well, no. Not really.” Peter expressed. Wanda sat up, studying him.

“Wanda – I need you to help me.”

She reached forward towards him. “With what?”

Peter took a deep breath. “I need you to help me remember something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Y'all are awesome!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for the comments you guys. You are just the best. It's so sweet of you!
> 
> This chapter is just sad all the way through. Lol sorry.
> 
> There's mention of depression and suicide in this chapter. If that's too much for you, maybe skip this one. Love you all :)

Peter’s eyes were scrunched shut. Behind them, in the dark, vivid memories played.

_May, golden and beautiful, hugging him tight after a day at school. Just because she loved him and liked to hug._

_Ben, teaching him how to change a tire._

_His aunt and uncle, holding both of his hands tightly over his parent’s coffins. May holding his six year old self tight in her arms whispering, ‘I love you, Peter’, over and over in his ear._

_Tony, placing his hand between Peter’s shoulder blades as they worked together in the lab._

_Flash, shoving him in the hallway as his friends laughed loudly._

_Flying from building to building with his webs. Feeling weightless. The joy of being Spiderman and getting to help others._

_Peter, standing stock still with silent tears running down his face because she couldn’t be dead. Not her. Not_ May _._

“No,” He gasped, eyes flying open. “I – I can’t. Not that.”

Wanda pulled her hands away from his temples sharply. “I’m sorry. There was a blockage and other memories tend to be more prominent when I undo those.”

“A – a blockage?” Peter breathed.

Wanda nodded. “A heavy one. I think it’s gone now.”

Peter’s mouth hung open. “It’s gone? Just like that?” He scanned memories in his head wildly, seeking something new. There was nothing there. He didn’t feel unblocked – whatever that meant.

“Well, it took quite a bit of prodding, but,” she touched his temple again with her eyes closed. “Yes – it’s been removed.”

Peter flung his hands up. “But how? I still don’t remember anything!”

Wanda scooted herself further onto her bed and crossed her legs. “All I can do is remove the block. I can’t force you to remember.”

Peter sighed loudly. “But it’s right _there._ I can _feel_ it, Wanda. When will I be able to know?”

“You won’t right now. But now that the block is free, the memories can be triggered.”

“Triggered?” That sounded scary. “How can I trigger them?”

Wanda placed her hand softly on Peter’s forearm. “There’s nothing you can do. Someday they’ll just – come.” Her face looked sad. “And you better talk to someone when they do. Promise me you will”

Her eyes were wide. “Did you –“ Peter swallowed. “Did you see what it was?”

Wanda shook her head. “I didn’t. But I saw that it was dark. A dark memory.” She gripped his arm tighter. “Promise me you’ll talk to someone when you remember. To Tony. Promise me.”

Peter felt his fear rise. “I promise.”

*

_Tony rushed down the white hallway. His body made shadows in the fluorescent overhead lights. Behind him, Happy followed closely._

_Pushing open double doors, he heard a voice cry out loudly, “I won’t! I won’t go with you! You can’t make me!”_

_Tony hurried faster because he knew that voice. It was high pitched and cracked. He rounded a corner to see Peter’s upper arms in two police officer’s grips._

_“Hey!” Tony called out. “What’s this about?”_

_Peter’s eyes shot up and filled with relief. “Tony! Tony, they –“_

_The officer’s faces turned white at the sight of Tony. “You’re Tony Stark!”_

_“And you’re an ass.”_

_“You know this kid?”_

_“Course. He’s a family friend that you’re holding a little too tight for comfort.” Heat was rising in Tony’s face. He held a hand out. “Come here, kid.”_

_The officers dropped Peter like he was poison. One of them rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Sorry – it’s just, well, he doesn’t look it,” He eyed Peter’s small frame. “But he’s freaking strong.”_

_Peter’s words rushed out. “Tony, they’re trying to make me go live at some people’s house, they’re trying to put me in the system. I don’t want to – I’ll file for emancipation, or whatever that is. I’ll –“_

_“Whoa, whoa,” said Tony, holding his hands up. “You’re not filing for anything, and you don’t need to be worrying about this right now.” He eyed the officers angrily._

_“But –“ Peter started. His body shook. His hair was all over the place. There were dark circles under his eyes and his nose was tipped with red. Tony took a few steps towards him, knowing his life was about to change, knowing he was about to take on a lot. Surprisingly, however, he wasn’t too worried about that. All he was worried about was the boy in front of him that looked like he was about to pass out any second._

_“Peter,” said Tony softly. He took a couple more steps and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo, I’m_ so _sorry.”_

_It took a second for Peter’s eyes to well with fresh tears again as he launched himself at Tony, who stumbled back a bit. He wrapped his arms tightly around the teenager and held him there until the officers and social workers started shuffling in discomfort._

_“Come on,” said Tony, pulling back. He framed Peter’s face with his hands. “There’s a car waiting. You don’t have to worry about anything right now, okay? Nothing at all. Trust me.”_

_Peter sniffled and held onto Tony’s arm. “I trust you.”_

*

The clock was moving impossibly slow. Granted, it _was_ the last day of school, but still. There was no way class could be taking this long. Peter was so ready for summer. Hopefully he could figure out some of his anxiety in the next three months so he didn’t feel like exploding every time he sat in a lecture.

Finally, the bell rang clear and sharp. Peter and Ned looked at each other excitedly and jumped up out of their seats.

Ned clapped him on the back. “Yeah, man! Free at last!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Michelle said she’d be waiting outside on the steps. My place?”

“Sure yeah, anything –“ said Peter happily. He was just glad to get out of the classroom. They chatted lightly as they strode down the hallway. Just as Peter was pushing open the front doors of the school, he looked down at his phone to see a message from Happy.

_Happy Hogan 2:15 p.m: There’s a situation. Stay inside the school until I get you._

“What?” Peter said to himself, confused. It was already too late. He had pushed through the doors. At first he thought the sunlight was impossibly bright but soon realized that hundreds of cameras were surrounding him at lightning speed.

Peter spun around, trying to get back in through the doors, but the paparazzi had already filled in behind him. Peter looked to his left to see that Ned had been separated from him by the crowds. In the distance he saw the principal trying desperately to apprehend some of the reporters.

Flash after flash blinded him. He could barely understand what any of them were saying. How were they here for _him_? Did they know?

“Peter! Why has Tony been keeping you a secret?”

“Peter! Is Tony your biological father?”

“What kind of parent is he?”

“How long have you been living with him?’

“Peter!”

“Peter!”

_“Peter!”_ That voice was familiar. Happy was pushing through the crowds like a madman. He held his hand out to Peter, who took it gratefully.

Happy forced Peter’s head down and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pushing him through the crowd. Peter felt his breath hitching in his chest. It was a good thing he’d cut his nails.

Happy opened the passenger side and set Peter in. “Buckle yourself,” he said gruffly.

More camera flashes came through the windows. Reporters were banging on the sides of the car. Peter felt like he was in a nightmare.

The driver door shut. “Shit,” seethed Happy. “How are we gonna get out of here? I thought I told you to stay in the school!”

Peter sat stock still in his seat. He couldn’t believe it. They knew. They knew and it was over now. He would never get to go to normal school again, or walk around the streets as Peter, or go to his favorite spots. That part of his life had completely ended. It was overwhelming.

“I – I didn’t get it in time.” He licked his chapped lips.

Happy glanced over at Peter, who must have looked terrible, because the man’s expression softened. “Are you hurt at all?”

Peter shook his head.

“Are you all right?”

Peter shook his head.

Happy sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He squinted out the window. “Damn it.”

*

The press tailed them all the way to the compound where they were finally cut off. Pepper was waiting anxiously for Peter at the front doors. Tony could be heard shouting angrily in the background. A phone was pressed to his face. Peter stepped through the house warily.

Pepper placed a tentative hand on Peter’s arm. “You okay?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t understand. How did they –?”

Pepper’s phone chimed. She picked it up and glanced at the screen. “One second, love.” And now she was yelling, going back and forth with someone on the other line. Silently, Peter slipped off to his room and shut the door.

He let out a long breath and curled up onto his bed. A text pinged onto his phone from Richard Parker. It took all his power not to burst into tears right there.

*

Hours passed. Peter texted Richard back every now and again. Doing anything felt like too much energy.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” said Peter softly.

Tony poked his head inside. “Hey, kiddie,”

Peter clicked on his phone with a sigh. “Hey.”

Tony stood in Peter’s room, moving awkwardly from foot to foot. For once he seemed to be at a loss for words. Peter sat up.

“How did they find out?” said Peter tiredly. “What happened?”

Tony shook his head. “I have no idea. I’ve been trying to find out for hours. It’s too late to stop anything now. It’s already trending on Twitter and everything.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh. “So this is it now? I can’t go anywhere without a bunch of leeches breathing down my neck?”

“Peter,” Tony’s face looked completely devastated. Peter felt terrible for him. He knew how much Peter hated the press, and he knew how impossible the media could be. He must feel completely horrible that his association had done this to Peter.

“It’s fine – never mind, “ Peter waved his hand at Tony. “What’s done is done.”

“Kiddo, I’m so sorry. We’ll do everything we can to keep them out of your hair. We’ll – Peter?” questioned Tony as Peter stood up suddenly.

Peter held up his phone. “My dad. He heard what happened. He wants to see me.”

Tony’s mouth opened and closed a couple times. “He – he, what? Peter, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go out right now.”

For some reason that comment rubbed Peter the wrong way. “We’ll just hang out in the yard. I want to see him. I _need_ to see him. This has been like, the worst day of my life.”

“And – and you think Richard will help?”

Peter shot a blazing look at Tony. Something clicked inside. Tony didn’t like Richard. Well, he had known that. But Tony really _really_ didn’t like Richard. At all. He hated the guy. He thought he was bad for Peter.

“He cares about me, Tony.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Does he?”

Peter sputtered. “Yes! He does!”

Tony’s face was skeptical. Peter felt anger rise in his chest. “Come on, Peter. You know there’s something off about him. Tell me you know that.”

“He’s probably been through a lot in his life – I don’t know –“

“What about that sick feeling you’ve been getting? You’ve gotta listen to yourself, Peter. If something in you is saying that something is wrong, _listen.”_

“I – I just get nervous. You know me.”

“Stop making excuses! I know it’s been him making you anxious this past month. I know he’s been toxic. You don’t think it’s strange that all of a sudden the press finds out about you after Richard jumps into the picture?”

Peter gasped. His cheeks flamed red. He looked into Tony’s face with fury – something that had never happened before. Tony seemed startled by Peter’s expression.

“He’ll be here soon,” Peter spat. “Leave me alone.”

He pushed past Tony, feeling a pang at the heartbroken look on his face.

*

“I take it I’m not welcome inside?” asked Richard as Peter slunk out the front door.

Peter shook his head. “No – probably not right now.”

“Or ever.” Richard shrugged. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. There’s nothing for me in there anyways.”

They walked in silence through the garden for a moment. Peter kept his eyes down at his feet. He’d never felt so hopeless in his life. Couldn’t he have at least kept some part of his old life? How would he run around Queens with Ned and Michelle now? How would he do the decathalon team? Would the rest of his life be spent holed up in this compound, only being able to go out as Spiderman? What would the press do once they found out who Peter Parker really was anyways? He was no one. Just a skinny kid that was socially awkward. How much longer would Tony put up with him once the press investigated him further?

“I think I know how you’re feeling.”

Peter gave his father a confused look. “You do? How?”

“I’ve felt the same. Overwhelmed. Scared of the future. Depressed.” He nodded at Peter’s surprised face. “Oh yeah – I’ve had my fair share of depression in my life.”

“You have?” asked Peter as he sat down on some steps.

“Oh yeah,” Richard answered, sitting next to him. “Ever since I was young. It got really bad after I had to leave you. Tried to off myself a few times.”

Peter’s eyes were wide. “You _what?_ You’d never – you wouldn’t – like, ever try that again, would you?”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. Honestly, I haven’t been feeling the best lately. I thought without a doubt that you’d come stay with me. I never thought – I don’t know – that I wouldn’t be enough.”

A terrible pit formed in Peter’s stomach. If possible, he felt even worse. “You – it’s not that you aren’t enough. It isn’t that. I just – I don’t know you very well and –“

“How are you ever supposed to know me if we aren’t together again? I get that you’re scared, I get that it’s something unknown. But this is what’s right for you, Peter. Look at what living with Stark has done to you –“

“Tony practically saved my life.”

“And he’s now made you into a public obsession. Don’t you see what has happened here? Your normal life is completely over.”

“It’s been over for a long time. That isn’t Tony’s fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Richard agreed. “But it is because of him. Do you see?”

Peter was at a loss for words. His head was spiraling in a million directions. That horrible, debilitating feeling was rising in his stomach again.

“Come on kid,” Richard placed his hand on Peter’s back. “I know it’s going to be new and different.” He gave a half smile. “But sometimes you have to take a chance.”

Peter blinked down at his hands. Words echoed in his mind.

_Are you_ happy _, Peter?_

No. No, he wasn’t.

But maybe taking a chance would fix that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I loved writing this chapter. So pumped to see what you guys think.

“Boss, Richard Parker is approaching the front door.”

“Well whoop de freaking do, FRIDAY.”

Tony groaned as he got up from his office chair. It looked like he’d have to go get Peter’s dumb dad – which was the last thing he wanted in the world right now. Stupid Richard.

“Peter!” Tony called up the stairs. “Your – Richard’s here. Again.”

“Once sec!” came Peter’s voice. “I’m just getting dressed!”

Scowling to himself, Tony opened the front door to find Richard shuffling on the front porch. He made a move as if to come inside.

“Uh, nope. You can just hang out right there,” said Tony tersely. “Peter will be down in a minute.”

Tony made to close the door but Richard cut in quickly. “How’s he doing? With all the media – and stuff?”

“Well, it’s only been three days since his identity was _somehow_ ,” He looked pointedly at Richard. “Leaked, so I’m not entirely sure. He isn’t jumping for joy about it.”

Richard shook his head. “It’s crazy. How just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “He goes totally public.” Richard gave a small smile that made Tony want to punch his teeth out.

Tony took a step forward. “Listen, you sick son of a –“

Peter came running towards the entryway at that moment. Under his breath, Tony whispered, “Bitch.”

“Hey – hey, what’s up guys?” said Peter timidly, looking from Tony to Richard.

“Nothing, kiddo. Mr. Dick and I were just having a conversation.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “ _Tony!”_

“What? It’s his name!”

“Aw Tony!” Richard laughed. “Always the joker. Come on, Peter –“ He held his arm out. “We can walk around for a while.”

Peter nodded quickly, looking up at Tony, who gave a slight shrug. Peter sighed.

“See ya in a bit,” the kid said softly. He turned around and walked down the steps with Richard. Tony resisted the urge to grab him back and keep him in the compound until he was no longer so young and impressionable.

*

_“Tony!” Peter came flying down the stairs to the lab, his childlike voice echoing off the walls. He skidded to a stop in front of the glass doors and started jumping up and down._

_“Tony!” Jump. “Tony!” Jump. His voice was slightly muffled by the glass. “Open up! I had the craziest night patrolling!”_

_Tony smirked and strolled over. He came face to face with Peter at the glass. “What – are you excited to tell me about it or something?”_

_Peter looked like he might burst. “Yes! God, Tony –“ He pushed his fingers against the keypad. “Why can’t I have the code to this thing?”_

_“Because you could explode at any second. What’s the password?”_

_“_ Tony! _”_

_“Come on, password!”_

_“I don’t know – Tony Stark is a little bitc –“_

_“All right!” Tony opened the door. “I was gonna give you the code, but not with that mouth.”_

_“Okay so listen –“_

_“That wasn’t the password, by the way.”_

_“Really? It should be.” Peter started shuffling around the room, practically skipping. “Okay – so first I’ve got like, nothing to do, ya know?”_

_Tony straddled a chair, resting his arms up on the wooden back. “Sounds good so far.”_

_Peter was pacing back and forth, his energy like a ball of lightning. “Okay – be a good audience. So, I’ve got nothing to do so I just – you know – make a web in between two buildings and start doing flips and stuff –“_

_“That’s cute.”_

_“No it’s not – it’s awesome. Tony, I can for reals do like, seven flips in a row. Or six. I don’t know, it’s hard to count sometimes because I’m just flipping and flipping – whew –“ Peter took a breath. “Sometimes I forget to breathe –“ Tony buried his face in his hands and shook with laughter. “Anyways – so then –“_

_Tony listened the best he possibly could to Peter’s erratic and choppy tale of how he had caught some guy that apparently had been on the FBI’s most wanted list. Peter hadn’t exactly known who he was catching at the time, but once he delivered him to the police they were beyond grateful._

_It was February. Four months since May. Peter, whose cheeks were bright red from the cold, had been living with Tony for four whole months. It had been fine – Peter was an easy kid. He was polite and tried his best not to be moody. He didn’t ask for much. Tony liked having him around a lot._

_But it was right then, as he watched Peter talk with such enthusiasm, that he realized he might just freaking love the little spaz._

*

Tony couldn’t help but smile slightly at the memory. He needed it, because things sure weren’t like that in the moment. He sat across from a sullen Peter at the dinner table, who pushed his pasta around with his fork. He had come in after talking with Richard for hours and retreated instantly to his room. When Tony forced him to come out and eat, he could tell that the kid had been crying.

Tony couldn’t take the silence any longer. “You’re not eating much,” he said suddenly.

Peter didn’t even look up. “Yeah – sorry.”

“Did he say something to you?”

Peter paused in his food pushing. “What?”

“Richard. Did he say something to make you upset?”

Now Peter looked up. “No. Well – not really.”

Tony sighed. “Peter, what’s not really – hey –“ he paused when Peter put his face in his hands. “Hey, Petey, come on –“

Peter mumbled something from his hands. “What was that, kid?”

“I’m –“ Peter lifted his head and sighed. “I’m gonna go stay with Richard.”

Tony felt like ice water had been poured all over him. He stared at Peter for a couple seconds. “You – you what?”

“That’s – that’s what we were – were talking about. You know. Trying it out for a couple weeks. And then me – maybe – um – moving in. Tony I’m so sor –“

Tony jumped up from his seat. Peter had tears in his eyes. “You can’t stay with him!” Tony said wildly. “Peter, I don’t even know this guy, how can I just let you –“

Peter stood up too. “I know him! We’ve been talking for weeks now! He’s my _father_ , Tony!”

“Yeah, your father that makes you want to puke every time you see him –“

“I don’t think that was ever because of him.”

Tony stopped. Peter looked like he wished he could erase his words by the paleness that came to his skin. A terrible feeling came over Tony.

“What –“ Tony licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

Peter put a hand on his forehead, anxiety clearly rising. “I don’t – I don’t know it’s just that – it’s just –“ he took a deep, shuddering breath.

And then a dam burst.

“It’s just that my whole life I’ve been passed off to people that didn’t really want me in the first place. Like I got dumped with Ben and May, and then Ben was gone so it was just May and then May was gone and you had to step up –“ streams of tears were coursing down Peter’s face. Tony stood completely still. “And – and I’m glad you did. I am. But – but I just want someone that is _supposed_ to care about me, ya know? Someone that cared from day one.”

Peter wiped at his eyes as if he was angry at his tears. Tony took a small step forward.

“And – and I know Richard and I aren’t like, super close right now but I’ve – I’ve gotta do something Tony because I just _can’t figure out how to be happy_. Like, I’ll be in a situation when everything should be all great but I’m still not happy. I don’t know – maybe it’s just because I don’t fit in with this lifestyle. I mean, I went from dirt poor to filthy rich overnight – you can’t just _do_ that – and – and –“

“Peter.” Tony said, trying to hide that he felt like the entire goddamn compound was falling on top of him. “Kid, take a breath.”

He did. Tony stepped forward again. This changed things quite a bit. If Peter wasn’t doing well with Tony then, well, he was going to have to be unselfish. Maybe Steve had been right all along. Maybe this was going to be good for Peter, but Tony had been too blinded by his own wants.

“You know, I never felt like I _had_ to step up. It was something I wanted to do.”

Peter sniffed. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way?”

“I – I didn’t want to seem like a brat. Because you’ve done so much for me and I really am grateful, Tony – I am –“

Tony placed a tentative hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I know you are, kiddo.”

They stood there for a beat. Tony wrestled with himself because he could put up a fight, he could go to the courts, he could stop this. Because legally he was Peter’s guardian and it wasn’t like he had to let the kid go. He could win.

But if he won, Peter would still be miserable.

Instead, he forced a smile. “Okay,”

Peter blinked. “Okay?”

He would let himself fall apart later. “Yeah, okay. If this is what you feel will help you, then I’m on board. I just want you to be _happy_ , Peter. That’s all I –“

His words were cut off by a sudden hug. Tony wrapped his arms around the kid instinctively, holding him tight, fighting back the tears that were creeping up. He couldn’t cry. Not yet.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world.” Peter’s voice was muffled against Tony’s shoulder.

Tony's heart stung. Gosh how could he possibly give this up?

“Right back at ya, kiddie.” Tony pulled back and wiped a tear from Peter’s face. “All right – well – just so you know, this isn’t like a ‘if you leave now you can never come back’ kinda deal. This is your house. You can always, always, until you’re fifty, come back here.” Peter giggled. “Got it?”

Peter nodded. “Got it.”

“Also, you’re still my little adoptee. It’s not like I can just – not hear from you when you’re out and everything. I’m gonna still need you to call before and after patrol and at the end of every day. If you don’t I’m not gonna be able to sleep and you know how I am –“

“Oh I know,” said Peter with a slight smile. “I’ll call. I promise.” Peter shuffled his feet. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Right.” Tony wanted to throw up everywhere. “Well, let’s go get your stuff ready, kiddo.”

*

They hugged goodbye again on the front steps. This time they both cried. Tony gave a short laugh.

“This has been the most emotional night of my freaking life, kid. Way to go.”

Peter nodded, giving a watery laugh in return. “Sorry.”

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “This is silly. We shouldn’t be sad. We’ll see each other all the time. You’ll still be around to eat all my food, right?”

“Right. I’ll come over in a few days – for sure. That’ll make it easier.”

“Yeah, well –“ Tony sighed. “Come by any time, kid.”

They both turned their heads to see Richard coming carefully up the front steps. Tony wished he would trip and fall.

Richard held out a hand to Tony. “Stark.”

Tony took Richard’s hand. “Parker.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Stark.”

Tony nodded sharply. “Well, it wasn’t a chore,” he looked at Peter fondly. “I enjoyed every second.”

Peter’s eyes started to fill again and Tony couldn’t take it. “No, no,” he said quickly. “You’ll be okay, kiddie, go on,” he gestured to Richard’s car. “We can’t cry again, I’m fresh out of water.”

Peter grabbed Tony’s hand briefly and whispered, “Okay.” Richard took him by the shoulder and steered him towards the car.

“You call me _tonight_ , Peter Parker, you hear? As soon as you get settled in.”

Peter looked back. “I will.” He gave a soft wave. “Bye, Tony.”

“Bye Peter.”

Then the car doors closed and the engine fired to life. Tony strained to see Peter’s face through the tinted windows. He waved and waved until the car was completely out of sight. With legs that felt like complete jelly, he made his way back up the front steps.

Steve, Clint, Natasha, Sam, Vision, Wanda, and Rhodey were all waiting right at the front door. It looked like they’d been peeking through the windows. Tony shot them a withering look once inside and strode off.

“Tony –“ Wanda called from behind. Tony waved her off.

“If you all know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone for a while.”

He made a beeline for his bedroom, needing to let it out, needing to accept what had happened in just a few short hours. With the door shut behind him he slid down the wall and rested his forehead on his knees, trying not to wince at how his sobs echoed around the room.

*

“This is for you, Pete. A late birthday present.”

Peter took the small box from Richard. He sat curled up in the passenger side of the car, watching the compound fade in the distance. He opened it to find a black watch inside.

“Cool,” Peter took it out gingerly. “Thanks!”

“It’s pretty special. Your grandad wore that when he fought in World War 2. See how it clips at the bottom?” Richard gestured. “That’s so it won’t fall off.”

Peter put it on quickly. “Wow. Thanks!”

Richard nodded and looked at Peter’s wrist. “Is it on tight?”

Peter thumbed the watch. “Yeah – yeah, I think –“

Richard reached over and felt all around the watch. Seeming satisfied he said, “Perfect.”

They sat in silence for a while. Peter’s heart was flitting anxiously in his chest. He kept stealing glances at Richard, whose face had become completely impassive. Peter bit his lip.

He tried to talk. “It was really nice of you to –“

“Shut it, kid.” Richards voice cut harshly.

Peter started at the tone. “What –“

“I said, shut it.”

Peter closed his mouth tight, feeling an overwhelming fear prickle his neck. Why was Richard angry? Had Peter said something wrong?

_“Shut it, kid! Do as you're told!”_

_Peter whimpered. The room was dark. “Dad, don’t please. Where’s momma?”_

_Richard grabbed Peter’s chin and got right in his face. “I said shut it. Do I need to tell you again?”_

_Peter shook his head and held out his arm. Instantly, freezing liquid shot up through his veins. Bones and skin ached in ways he didn’t even think possible. He screamed._

_“Weird results every time, Parker,”_

_“I know,” said Richard, looking down at Peter, emotionless. “If he passes out, we’ll try it again.”_

Peter gasped.

The thought came instantly, ‘You chose wrong.’

“Oh my god,” Peter whispered. He looked sideways at Richard, who looked like a completely different man.

Memories came flooding into his brain like a waterfall. His dark childhood came to an instant light. Quietly, he pulled out his cell phone.

_To: Tony Stark 9:32 p.m: Something’s really wrong. I’m coming back right now._

Send.

“Let me see that,” Richard ordered.

Peter shook violently with terror. “No.”

Richard reached over and easily pulled Peter’s phone from his hand. Peter gasped at not being strong enough to fight him on it. His father rolled down the window and tossed the cell phone from the car.

“Take me back,” Peter’s voice came out crackled. He swallowed and sought more volume. “Take me back now!”

Richard laughed. Peter had never heard a more sinister, cold laugh in his life. “No can do, kid. And don’t even bother trying to overpower me. I think your little friend Wanda knows a bit about that bracelet you’ve got on.”

Instantly, Peter tugged at the watch, but it was as if it was glued shut. Not only that, but he was tugging at it like the old Peter. He couldn’t hear the conversations in the cars next to him, he couldn’t hear the road construction all around.

“Yup, no freaky spider powers with that thing on, kid,” Richard looked at Peter and grinned. “Looks to me like you’re pretty much screwed.”

Peter’s eyes were wide. He winced at the onslaught of thoughts swirling through his head.

_“Dad, what are you doing?”_

_“This is going to help you Peter,” said Richard, his voice hard. “Remember how dad said you needed help?”_

_“Yeah – but – but can’t momma be here?”_

_“No, Peter. I told you we can’t tell momma about how you need help. It will make her mad at you.”_

_Tears coursed down Peter’s face. A needle came closer. “No – daddy, please –“_

_“Just hold still.”_

Peter raised a hand to his mouth. “Oh my _god.”_

Yeah. He _really_ was screwed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes. Thank you so freaking much for all your love on my little story. This chapter was crazy to write. Please continue being awesome and let me know what you think. Happy reading and try not to be too traumatized by this one.

“Tony, come on, open up!”

“Go away, Barton.”

“Seriously Tony,” there was Natasha. “Come on out for a minute.”

“Can’t you vultures just leave me alone? This is _my_ part of the house! Why are you even over here?”

Clint’s voice was surprised. “Um, Tony, we’re always over here.”

Tony let out a groan and twisted around onto his knees. He stretched up and pulled open the door. “No,” he said, surprising his friends. “Not anymore. Peter’s gone, so jerk Tony is back.”

Steve strode to the front of the group. “Oh, that’s nice. I just about to comment on how maturely you handled –“

Tony pushed past, knocking Steve. “Shut up Steve.”

He walked down the hallway away from everyone. From behind he could hear Sam say, “Yeah, you kinda should shut up, man.”

Tony just wanted to eat a fat bag of chips and watch crappy television. Being questioned endlessly by a bunch of pesky superheroes made him want to shove nails in his ears.

He stood in the dark kitchen with his back to the door. Soft footsteps came up behind him.

“It really is impressive, you know,” said Steve softly from the doorway. “How you were able to let him go. I don’t think I could’ve – if I had a child.”

Tony placed his palms flat on the countertop. He let a breath out through his teeth. “He was never my child.”

“Right.”

“Plus he was unhappy. He told me. I couldn’t make him stay here if he was unhappy.”

“Tony,” Steve’s voice was tentative. “I’m sorry.”

With a heavy sigh, Tony turned to face Steve. He scratched the sides of his head violently. “Damn it,” He turned back away when tears sprang up again. “ _Damn_ it.”

Steve was silent. Tony grabbed his phone up from the counter, desperate for something to occupy his mind and help him avoid talking to Steve.

A text flashed up on the screen.

_From: Peter Parker 9:32 p.m: Something’s really wrong. I’m coming back right now._

Tony stared at the message for a surprised second. 9:32. 9:32? He glanced at the time. It was 10:00 now. If Peter had wanted to come back, shouldn’t he be here by now? Had something happened to him?

Wasting no time, he called the kid.

“Is something up?” Steve asked. Tony waved him away.

The phone call went straight to voicemail. Tony’s breath hitched.

He called again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Again and again. Panic rose.

“Hey, kiddie,” said Tony into the phone. His voice shook. “I got your text. I’ll – I’ll come get you wherever you are. Just call me back, okay?”

Tony looked up into Steve’s stricken face and forced himself to be calm. “Cap, could you gather everyone together?” He looked down and gazed at Peter’s name on the screen. “We might have a situation.”

*

Peter was dragged by the hair into a lavish mansion that was hidden by trees. He had been on verge of a panic attack the entire car ride, nearly becoming lightheaded at the lack of air. It seemed that the second Richard had put the bracelet on Peter, the entire façade was completely over because he was extremely rough.

_“Ow, ow!” Peter’s voice screeched. His hands were cuffed. The ground was hard and cold._

_“Peter, you know dad doesn’t like it when you whine,” Richard scolded. “We’ve talked about this.”_

_“I know – I know!” Peter’s tone became louder as Richard came closer. “Please – I’m sorry –“_

_“Will you be quiet this time?”_

_Peter sniffled. “I’ll – I’ll be quiet.”_

_“That’s a good boy,” Richard pushed the plunger of the needle into Peter’s thigh. “This will be just a pinch.”_

_But it wasn’t a pinch at all. Whatever he was injecting felt like ice shards slicing up Peter’s leg. He couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped._

_“Peter, I’m disappointed.” The child shook. “Why can’t you just listen?”_

“Got it, boys!” Richard called, throwing open the front doors. He still held Peter by the hair. “It was easier than I thought.”

Peter was thrown into the center of a large living room with a domed ceiling. Well over a dozen built men strode into the room with sick grins on their faces.

It was then that Peter fully realized what his panic-stricken mind had been freaking out about the entire car ride. He was completely defenseless in the moment. There were a bunch of huge, strong men leering at him, and he was a freshly sixteen year old boy with no superpowers. The loss of his extra senses was staggering. It threw him off. The feeling of extra pain where his hair was being pulled alarmed him. Usually it took a lot to actually get hurt.

“Aw, Rich –“ the largest one stepped forward and placed a hand on top of Peter’s head. “He looks just like you!”

Richard whirled Peter around and grabbed his chin. “He does, doesn’t he?”

Peter slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

_Smack!_

Peter screamed at the action because he never imagined that anyone could hit so hard. The sound of it echoed up into the wide dome and throughout the room. Peter twisted and fell to the ground, feeling teeth chip and blood well up onto his tongue.

“Don’t even _begin_ to think you have any form of an upper hand here, kid,” Richard snarled viscously, standing over Peter. “You just keep that little defiant shit out of the way, and things will fare a lot better for you –“

Peter lay gasping on the ground. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he spit out a tooth. “I – I don’t understand –“ He cried. “Wh – wh – why –“

Then he was smacked impossibly hard again. Richard’s friends laughed loudly in the background.

Blood poured from Peter’s mouth onto the carpet. Richard grabbed him by the arm and pulled him upwards. “Don’t understand? Hm, what part exactly?”

Peter shook his head, practically weeping. “You’re – you’re –“

“I like his stutter,” said one of the men. “You’re really tough, huh kid?”

“He _is_ tough!” Another came forward and violently ruffled Peter’s hair. “He’s the Spiderboy!”

Peter took a shuddering breath and looked Richard full in the face. “You’re not – not even my – my dad, are you?”

The men shrieked with laughter. One of them even doubled over. “I actually _am_ your dad, Peter!” Richard chuckled. “How does that make you feel?”

Peter’s head spun with memories and confusion and pain. He licked his red lips. “I know what you did –“ he practically whispered. “I – I remember now. When I was a kid –“

“Memories came a little late, didn’t they?” Richard smirked. “That’s pretty unfortunate for you.”

“But – but why?” Peter winced at how childish his voice was. “What – what did I ever do? I don’t –“

Richard shrugged, as if it was no big deal he was beating his son and holding him an inch off the floor. “You were born. I never wanted you.” His voice was casual. Matter of fact. “I needed a test subject for work, so it just seemed easiest to use my own kid. No lawsuits that way.”

Peter stared, horrified. “Oh my god. You’re – you’re like a _psychopath.”_

“Oh you wouldn’t believe it, kid.” Richard snarled. “It’s my specialty. That’s why I’m so good at my job.” The men around him nodded their heads in agreement. Richard put his face so close to Peter’s that their noses were nearly touching. “You ever heard of Hydra, son?”

*

“I need the biggest cup of coffee in the world,” said Tony wildly, looking at security tapes. “This night is never gonna end.”

He and Steve exchanged a worried glance. They pulled up Richard Parker’s license plate on the screen. “FRIDAY, trace that plate. Find where else it had gone in New York State.”

“What if they’re leaving New York?” Steve asked, his white face staring at the screen.

“They left less than an hour ago – there’s no way they could be out of the state.” He looked down at his cell phone for the millionth time. “Why isn’t he calling _back_?”

Clint came up behind them. “You got eyes on the squirt yet?”

“FRIDAY’s searching for the car. His phone can’t be traced for some reason,” Steve said calmly.

Clint shot his gaze to Tony. “His phone can’t be traced? What the hell is going on?”

Tony couldn’t even look at Clint’s face. He felt like passing out. “There!” he shouted. “FRIDAY! That’s it! Give me coordinates on that car.”

“Coordinates sent to your cell phone, boss.”

“Awesome,” said Tony briskly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Let’s suit up, everyone.”

*

Peter was completely helpless. He was skinny and short and weak, just like he’d been before Spiderman. With no effort at all he was dragged down a white hallway with men chattering on cell phones behind him.

“Okay so Rich, boss wants us to get a few samples, test them, and then depending on the results head out to HQ.”

“Where are we going?” Peter spewed frantically, trying to pull his arm from Richard’s grasp. “Tell me!”

“Can’t we just do the samples at HQ? Collins do me a favor –“ Richard jolted to a stop and held Peter’s arm out to – apparently – Collins. “Could you break his arm? He keeps trying to be a little shit.”

Collins put his large hands on either sides of Peter’s forearm. “No, no, no – wait –“

Peter’s bone snapped, echoing down the hallway, as did his scream. Richard still pushed his arm at Collins.

“Break it somewhere else. Just want my little son to get the memo.”

Collins looked gleeful. This time he went closer to Peter’s wrist and snapped that too. It was like a white hot fire had been lit in his arm. Peter saw black spots for a moment. His legs turned to jelly, not supporting him as he continued to be dragged.

“That was fun – what else can I break?”

“Eh – hold off for a bit. Then you can break every bone in his body, I don’t care.”

Peter’s lips trembled, with blood drops still spilling over. “P – please –“

“Talk again and I’ll break your ankle. Think I won’t?”

Peter shook his head quickly.

“Good,” Richard nodded. “You’re catching on.”

Peter felt his body wanting to enter into shock. He tried to fight it, tried to brush it off because now was not the time to lose it. He was about to be taken far away, experimented on, sampled, and somehow he needed to get out. He needed to get away. What was he going to _do –?_

A flurry of pops came from outside one of the windows. Everyone in the hallway entourage whipped their heads towards the noise.

One of the men hurried over to the window and peered out. “ _Shit!”_ He jumped back. “Shitty shit shit!”

“What? Stop being a little bitch!”

“It’s the _freaking Avengers!”_

Peter gasped with amazement. Richard grabbed him by the neck and threw him against a wall.

“Why are they here?” He asked through gritted teeth. Peter choked and spluttered. “Did you send them a message? Before I took your phone?” His fingers tightened. “Did you?!”

“I – I don’t – don’t –“

“Little bitch called them here somehow –“

Richard threw Peter at Collins. “Take him to the jet. Now. Break his stupid fingers while you’re at it.” He rushed down the hallway with a few others, pulling out a metal rod that lit up with electricity. “Kill them all.” He called from behind. “Make sure Peter sees.”

Peter’s heart beat out of control as he was dragged down yet another hallway. His arm felt like it was absolutely on fire. It throbbed to his fingers and up past his shoulder. Blood trickled down his chin from a lip split wide open. He moved his feet as fast as he could, desperate to keep up. Collins didn’t seem to care if Peter fell – he didn’t seem to care about pulling him by the broken arm either.

Cool night air hit him as they sprinted outside. Men followed close at their heels, also having drawn metal rods with electricity bouncing off.

A large jet waited for them on a launching pad. Collins turned to the other men while forcing Peter in through the door.

“Turn on the camouflage, Turner –“ He grabbed one of Peter’s wrists and snapped the teen’s middle finger. Peter shrieked. “Are we waiting for the rest?”

“We’ll get the thing started up first – shit!” Three figures came hurrying down the runway. “Go! Just go!”

Peter was pushed inside. He fell to the ground, splitting his chin in the process. Collins chucked him into a chair and lit up his metal rod. Peter could hear shouts from outside of the plane.

Then one of the best sights in the universe came to Peter’s eyes. Clint Barton, fully decked in Hawkeye gear, came somersaulting through the door. Collins rushed at him, face ablaze – but Clint was faster. He drew back his arrow with impossible speed and skewered Collins right through the heart.

Collins fell with a heavy thud right where Peter was curled in an airplane seat. He and Clint met eyes for a second, taking each other in.

Stepping over the dead man, Clint hurried towards Peter. His face was partially horrified, and partially heartbroken. “We’ve got you, little guy,” he held out his hand. “Come on – home’s just a bit away.”

Peter reached out with his good hand, which shook. He and Clint gripped hands, and Peter sputtered out a sob.

“Clint –“ hot tears began to pour from his eyes. “Cl – Clint –“

Hawkeye held Peter close to him. “We gotta go, bug. Can you walk?” Peter nodded fervently.

“They – my wrist.” Peter held up where the black watch was. “It blocks Spiderman. I don’t have any of my abilities –“

“It’s all right,” Clint reassured. “I’ve got you. Just stay close to me.”

They ducked out of the metal doorway and saw a heavy battle commencing outside. Black Widow, Falcon, and Captain America were all three fighting with surprising vigor. Several large men were giving their all back, electrocuting left and right. Peter watched with horror.

“They’ve got it taken care of –“ Clint shouted over the din. “Don’t worry – see that jet in the distance?” He pointed down, into the trees. “That’s where we’re headed. Don’t look back, just run with me!”

Clint wrapped his hand around Peter’s, and they ran. Peter felt like he was passing through a nightmare – which wasn’t too far from the truth. Clint was shooting arrows left and right. Peter’s gaze followed each one. He felt like his heart and mind might burst, because this couldn’t be happening. Had all of this really _happened?_ Had he really been this _hurt?_

Step by step, it all became increasingly more unbearable.

*

“Tony!” Clint’s voice shouted through the comms. “I’ve got him! We’re running to the jet right now!”

Tony’s stomach swooped. “I’ve got your location. I’m coming now.”

“Okay, come and fly him to the jet. I can’t give him the best protection right now – his abilities are completely blocked.”

Tony cranked up the power and zig-zagged over the many rooftops of the mansion. “Blocked? How?”

“He’s got one of those power-sapping things around his wrist. ETA?”

Iron Man appeared over the other side of the house where the rest of the team was fighting. Down in the trees he spotted Clint and his teenager, rushing through the grass.

“About ten seconds.”

Zooming down to the ground, he landed easily in front of the pair. They took a step back at his appearance. Peter’s eyes seemed like they couldn’t go wider.

Every part of Tony’s insides burned at Peter’s appearance. A cherry red blotch covered the entire right side of his face, darkening into what was going to be a violent bruise. The middle bottom of his lip was completely ripped open, sickening liquid dripping down his equally split chin. He held his arm close to his chest, which was U-shaped. A couple fingers were bent and twisted.

As terrible as Peter looked, however, Tony didn’t skip a beat. He glided over and reached for Peter, who backed away spastically. Tony paused and lifted his faceplate.

“It’s just me, Petey –“ He said softly. “We don’t have a ton of time right now. I’m gonna take you –“

“I can’t fly with you!” Peter cried, trembling. “I’m – I’m just human –“

“Hey, me too –“

“What if – what if –“

“What if nothing, Peter,” Something foreign was boiling in Tony’s chest. Peter had never been scared like this before Richard. Peter had never stuttered like this before Richard. “You’ll be totally safe –“

“But I’m just human! I – I can’t –“

Tony strode forward and scooped a terrified Peter up, bridal-style. “Then I’ll hold on extra tight.” And he took off into the air.

Peter kept his eyes squeezed shut the entire way – which wasn’t very far. He was breathing short breaths through gritted teeth. Tony had never felt so worried about any human being before.

“I’ve got Peter – seconds from the jet – how close is everyone to meeting us there?” he shouted over the comms.

“They’re retreating,” came Steve’s authoritative voice. “We’ve lost at least two. Taken out six.”

“We’ve taken out four,” said Rhodey. “Lost one, I think. They might have had another plane somewhere.”

“Their planes can camo –“ Clint breathed. “Sons of bitches.”

Tony held Peter high on his chest. Their jet was in sight. “And Richard?” Peter flinched at the name.

There was silence on the comms. Tony growled.

“No one knows where he is?”

“I had sights on him for a moment,” sighed Wanda. “But he slipped away and I got distracted.”

Tony’s feet touched the wings of their plane. Peter’s bleeding mouth was scrunched tightly shut, his body trembling.

“We’re here at the jet,” announced Tony.

“We need to retreat,” instructed Cap. “We’ll have to worry about them later – when we’re more in control of what’s going on.”

“Get here quick,” said Tony, looking down at Peter. “Please guys, ASAP.”

He placed his palm against the side of the jet, which let him inside instantly. Gently, he set Peter down on one of the seats and frantically pulled his way from the iron suit.

“Hey, bud,” Tony voiced smoothly, lowering himself beside Peter. “Sounds like we’ll be out of here in just a sec, yeah?” His arms pulled the kid close to him, one hand brushing the good side of his face. “We’re gonna get you outta here.”

Peter’s huge eyes reflected the overhead lights of the cabin. He still held the ruined arm close to his chest. A black watch sat menacingly around his wrist, the skin raw and flayed everywhere it touched. It looked like Peter had tried to claw it off.

In a matter of seconds, Peter flitted his gaze up to Tony’s. He’d never seen the kid look so traumatized, so frightened, so – not like Peter.

“Tony –“ Peter whispered. His voice was small sounding. “Oh – oh my _god.”_ His top canine tooth was completely missing. The front two teeth had thick chips, as did a bottom canine. Someone had knocked the kid’s _teeth_ out. Tony felt like screaming until his throat bled.

“I know, kiddie,” Tony’s voice cracked with anguish. An absolute loathing that he’d never felt in his entire existence was building towards a boiling point inside Tony’s body. He couldn’t hold still because of his anger. Nothing had been stronger, or more consuming. “You’ll be all right now – I’m here –“

Loud footsteps clambered on the outside metal. One by one the entire team rushed inside, the same anxious and furious looks on all their faces. Tony had never seen them fight like they had today – with such numb hate. They’d killed practically anyone in their path. Tony himself had taken out two of the men.

“Step on it, Nat,” Steve ordered, his face looking struck at the sight of Peter.

Tony’s mind went wholeheartedly to the boy practically sitting in his lap at that point. The sheer relief of rising in the air and having Peter safe on the jet opened a lot of space for comfort.

He rubbed Peter’s back softly. “Hear that, Peter? We’re on our way – you’re gonna be just fine –“

Peter’s breathing started coming in little short gasps at that point. His throat, which was covered in bruises, started making sobbing noises. He called Tony’s name out again.

“I’m here, kiddo,” Tony felt like having a panic attack himself. In the seat across the aisle, Clint sat with his face in his hands. Rhodey had a hand over his mouth, looking like he might be sick. Steve’s face was a pale greenish color, for once he was lost for words. Wanda was looking pointedly away from Peter.

“I – I –“ Peter nearly choked on his words. Tony rocked him back and forth.

Peter let his forehead fall onto Tony’s chest, while horrible sobs escaped his body that were choppy and haunting. Muffled words were said.

“What’s that, kiddo?” pleaded Tony, stroking Peter’s hair. “What’d you say?”

“I – I’ve never – never felt so hurt in my _life_ –“ Peter stumbled, his nose running. “Never – never like –“

“Hurt? What’s hurt?” Tony asked quickly. “Your arm? Mouth? We can get you –“

“No – like _hurt_ –“ Peter practically shrieked. “I’ve never felt hurt like this – not when Ben died, not even when May died. Never like this. God, why does it _hurt_ so bad?” He buried his face again. “Why – I don’t get why –“

“None of us do, Peter. But we’re here. I’m here –“ He cupped Peter’s face in his hands. “Look at me.”

But Peter couldn’t. He just cried harder.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww man, it got real. Hope you guys are liking so far -- please let me know what you think of this one!!!

_“Kid, you jump off skyscrapers on a daily basis. No need to be a wuss right now.”_

_Peter had an unsure look on his face. “I know, but this is just – weird. Like, I don’t know what’s under me, ya know? What are Spider powers against a megaladon?”_

_Tony rolled his eyes and swam a little further out. Afraid of being left behind, Peter followed. “Megaladons aren’t real, you know.”_

_Peter’s eyes widened. “They totally are. I saw this thing on– oh shit. Shitfreak. Damn.” He tried to back away at a wave approaching. “What am I supposed to do?”_

_“First off, shitfreak is a dumb thing to say. Second, you’ve got a dirty mouth and I’m extremely disappointed –“_

_“Tony!”_

_“Third, you just dive under it, like a big boy.”_

_“Hey asshat, I’ve never swam in the ocean before! You’re traumatizing me!”_

_“I’m not even wearing a hat that makes no sense – hey! Here it comes – you know how to swim, right?”_

_“This is a terrible time to ask that! What if I said no?”_

_Tony took a deep breath and dipped under the water, letting the cold wave rush over him. He hoped Peter hadn’t let it hit him in the face._

_He let out a breath of air as he came up and looked over at the kid, who shook water from his hair. His eyes looked a little brighter._

_“Aw, look Pete! You swam in the ocean!” Tony half-mocked._

_Peter gave a small grin. “Yeah – yeah it’s cool.” He shrugged. “Even with the megaladons.”_

*

By the time they made it back to the compound, the sun was beginning to rise. Tony felt like he’d just had the most hellish night of his entire life – and there were a lot of hellish nights to choose from.

Cap had turned into Mr. Authority again and honestly Tony didn’t mind. He didn’t have the drive to tell others what to do or make decisions. There were too many debilitating emotions swirling inside.

“All right –“ Steve said the moment they landed. “Bruce is waiting for us. Tony can Peter walk –“

“Yes.” Peter said minutely. Tony looked down at his tear-streaked face unsurely.

“Kid, you sure –“

“Yes,” he said, standing up. Steve looked surprised.

“All right. Tony take him down to medical. Nat and Clint, Fury’s waiting to talk to you – I think he knows something about getting that bracelet off. Wanda –“

Tony didn’t listen to any more of Steve’s orders. He rushed Peter off the plane, keeping a firm arm around his shoulders. The kid’s face had started to bruise intensely.

Peter gasped when they set him on the side of a hospital bed. Bruce rushed in the white room, looking anxious. His eyes flicked down to Peter’s ruined arm.

“Let me see this,” Bruce expressed softly. Peter hissed immediately at the touch.

“Don’t. Please.” The kid’s chin trembled. His face was scary white underneath the shocking black bruising. Blood from his lip was so dark it was practically black around the wound. Brighter red streaked down his chin and neck in a gruesome way. The pupils in his eyes covered practically all the color. Tony and Bruce exchanged a glance.

“I’ll be very gentle Peter – I just need to look –“ said Bruce, reaching out. Very carefully he leaned back and whispered to Tony, “He’s in shock.”

Bruce examined the arm with his lips tight. There were finger marks around Peter’s wrist and elbow. The arm was awkwardly bent with a large lump of bone making a bump underneath the skin. Wanda rushed over with an ice pack. Bruce took it from her and handed it to Tony.

“Thank you. Tony, why don’t you sit next to him and hold this on this arm?” Tony nodded. “That okay, Peter?”

Peter didn’t answer. His large eyes stared at nothing.

Tony lowered himself beside Peter and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Peter flinched at the ice pack touching his skin.

Bruce touched Peter’s lip. “Check his teeth,” Tony directed. “Some of them got knocked out.” Peter shook his head quickly.

Bruce glanced from Tony to Peter, looking a bit out of his element. “Peter, I’ve got to check everything. Can you tell me how your arm broke? It will help me when I take the x-ray.”

Peter shook his head again. Tony sighed.

“Come on kid, just –“

“No!” Peter cut off, sounding defiant. “No! I don’t want to talk about my arm, I don’t want you touching my teeth, I don’t want an x-ray, I don’t want that _fucking_ needle you’ve got in your hand anywhere near me – yeah I see it,” he commented at Bruce’s surprised expression. Tony stared down at Peter in wonder. He’d never heard the kid drop the F bomb before. “I don’t want all this shit and I don’t want to talk okay? _I’m not going to talk.”_

“Okay, okay –“ Bruce held his hands out. “It’s okay Peter, it’s okay.”

“Just take this stupid watch off me. Take it off and I’ll heal myself.”

“We don’t know how to get it off right now – we’re working on it –“

“Well until then don’t fucking touch me –“ he pointed at Bruce. “Leave me alone.”

Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder. Where was all this coming from? Was it the shock talking? “Kid, we’ve gotta get you looked at. Hey –“ He moved his head so he could see Peter’s face. “Petey, you’re not breathing.”

And he wasn’t. His face – if possible – got even whiter. It looked like he was choking on something. His mouth was open but no air was passing.

“Kid! Come on, take a breath! You’re here, you’re with me, come on –“

“I – can’t –“ tears were streaking Peter’s face again now. “I – I can’t. I’m sorry I yelled – _gosh_ –“ He doubled over. “I can’t.”

“Don’t say sorry, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” He placed a hand on Peter’s chest and looked sideways at Bruce who seemed to be at a loss. “Just breathe.”

Peter clutched at his chest, placing his hand over where Tony’s was. “Gosh I don’t – what am I –“ he let out a sob. “What am I going to do?”

Tony held him tight, placing his cheek on top of Peter’s head. “I’m here, Peter. Please just breathe, baby, I’m here –“

*

It rained when the afternoon came. It let off a fog that spread over the grounds of the compound. Tony stood out on the balcony, letting the water drizzle over him. He clutched a glass in his hand, sporadically taking sips.

So many emotions swirled in his head. He didn’t even know which one to deal with first. They had ended up needing to drug Peter. Tony refused to let Bruce sneak a needle into him, so they’d offered Peter a drugged glass of water instead. He felt slightly guilty for doing that to the kid, but he wasn’t calming down or letting anyone help. Plus, it was decided that they would have to smush every bone in the teen’s hand to get the stupid ass bracelet off. The thing was like freaking fort knox.

That was why he had come outside. With all he’d seen that night, seeing every bone break in Peter’s hand just might set him over the edge. He’d already been swallowing back vomit for hours.

“Want a souvenir?” Came Natasha’s voice from behind. He let out a sigh before turning to face her.

She held the black bracelet in her hand. Tony instantly set his drink down and swiftly crossed the space between them.

“That was fast,” he held his hand out. She dropped it to his palm. “Is he –“

“Asleep.” Natasha’s face was emotionless. Impassive. It was a show, obviously. He knew how fond she was of Peter. She must be burning inside. “He didn’t feel anything.”

Tony nodded stiffly. “Well, that’s just – dandy.” He twisted the bracelet in his fingers. “What’s in this little son of a bitch?”

“No idea. If anyone can find out – it’ll be you.”

“True that. That’s what I do. That’s all I can do. Fix machines. Fix shit. Can’t fix kids that are my responsibility but hey –“ He wagged the bracelet in her face. “I can figure this out.”

Finally her expression changed to one of pity. “Tony – none of this is your fault.”

He scoffed and placed his hands on the railing of the balcony. “Yeah – sure.”

“It’s _not_. I wouldn’t say so if I thought differently.”

There was a halt of silence. Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat. He could practically feel Natasha’s gaze on him. “I let him go.”

“You thought you were helping him.”

“Yeah well, shows how great my thoughts are, huh?”

“There’s no way you could have known.”

“I should have. I should have known. It’s as simple as that.”

They were silent again. Images tortured Tony’s mind. Peter’s sweet, hopeful face saying, _‘He cares about me, Tony’, ‘You don’t think maybe he just wants me now?’ ‘I just want someone that’s supposed to care about me.’_ What had it looked like when they’d hit him? Peter, getting slapped across the face, his arm being snapped, teeth breaking from his mouth, his finger getting broken, the shocked expression when he realized his father wasn’t who he claimed to be. His face must have crumpled. His eyes must have filled with tears.

“I’m going to kill him.” Tony whispered. Natasha turned her head.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kill him.” His voice rose. The tone was clear. Final. “Me. I am going to _kill_ Richard Parker.”

Natasha gave a humorless half smile. Her eyes were piercing. “None of us will be standing in the way of that one.”

*

It was dark when Peter woke. His eyes blinked repeatedly. He scanned the room he laid in. A dark shape sat in a chair next to his bed. Once his vision adjusted a little better he could see that it was Tony. At first he wanted to shake his arm and wake him up, but he stopped himself.

The thought of being asked about anything that had happened made his skin crawl. There was no way he would be able to talk about that terrible car ride, the beating, the _memories_. Gosh, the memories. He couldn’t talk about that. He couldn’t tell Tony. What would they think of him then? Would they want to test him too? Would they want to experiment with his Spiderman abilities?

The room was pitch black and it suffocated Peter. He felt the dark run straight through his body, filling him. Burning him. Giving him physical pain. There was pain outside but so much inside as well. How was he supposed to face anyone ever again? How was he supposed to look at anyone? How could he ever smile again? The very thought sounded exhausting.

He was actually going to have to _live_ after all of this happened? How was he going to live? Would the shock of what had gone down ever wear off? Would the memories ever get less agonizing?

There was no way, Peter decided. There was absolutely no way he would ever be remotely okay again.

*

There was a stabbing crick in Tony’s neck when the sunlight shone into his eyes. Steve had forced him to sleep in a decent enough chair, but his head had apparently still hung off the side all night. He rolled his neck with a groan.

“Well that feels just – peachy,” Tony sighed. He started when his glance found Peter, sitting up casually in his bed and staring out the window. Scooting his chair closer, he placed a hesitant hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter kept his head turned to the window for a few seconds but eventually looked at Tony. It didn’t look like his cheek had healed very much. Tony had never seen anyone’s face look so bruised. The splotches were green, purple and black, stretching all the way to his ear. The lip was still split as well, but looked a lot better since they had cleaned it up. His arm was harnessed tightly with a cast. Bruce had secured it very well on the kid’s ribs.

Peter’s expression was vacant, almost childish. Tony cleared his throat. “Morning, kiddo,” He rasped. “Feeling any better?”

Peter shrugged.

Tony licked his lips. He felt completely inadequate. “Anything hurting bad?”

Peter started to shrug again, but stopped and gestured to his arm. Once he did he noticed the IV taped into his other arm. He snapped his head up and glared at Tony.

“Hey – hey –“ Tony held his hands up in a surrender. “You needed fluids and painkillers and – stuff. They had to break your hand to get that freaking thing off your wrist –“ Peter looked down at his hand curiously. It laid in a heavy brace. “Don’t worry. I’ve been here. I wouldn’t ever let anyone do anything wrong to you while you were out. Trust me, Pete.”

Peter still held his gaze on the needle in his arm. His expression was helpless, as if he wanted to rip the IV out, but had no way since both of his hands were immobile at the moment.

“It’s helping you with the pain, we’re gonna leave it for a little while, okay?” Tony told him. Peter gave a small nod.

Tony squinted his eyes. “You need anything?”

Peter shook his head. Tony stared down at his hands awkwardly.

“I’m – I’m so sorry kid. I should have protected you better. I should have done more. You didn’t deserve any of this, you hear me?” He reached out for Peter’s shoulder again. “You’re such a good kid, and I’m gonna be better now, all right? I’ll look out for you better and I’ll up the security – and – and – gosh, I’m so _sorry_ , Peter.”

There was a stagnant silence. Peter kept his eyes on his lap, but glanced at Tony every few seconds. Tony felt heat rise in his neck. Was Peter angry with him?

“If you’re upset with me – I get it. I really do. But I’m here for you. Always will be.”

Peter shook his head quickly. His face looked anguished now.

“No?” Tony asked. “No – what?”

Peter just shook his head again. Tony guessed, “No, you’re not upset with me?”

He nodded.

Tony sighed. “Well, if you were, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Peter just let out a huff and gave a very small head shake again. Tony cocked his head to the side, considering the kid for a moment.

“What’s the pain in your arm like right now?” Tony questioned. Peter looked at his arm, pursed his lips and then shrugged.

Again with the goddamn shrugging.

“You don’t – know what it feels like?” asked Tony, confused. “Peter, talk to me.” Peter just swiveled his eyes around the room, looking at the TV and the plants and the vase all in a few seconds. Tony moved into his line of sight. Peter leaned back.

“Hey –“ He placed his hand on the good side of Peter’s face. “Talk to me, Peter. Please.”

Peter just stared blankly. Panic rose in Tony’s stomach. He grew desperate.

“Can you talk, Peter?” he asked again. Gosh what was wrong with the kid? What the hell was wrong with his kid?

Peter shook his head.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo sorry this took me a million years to get up. And sorry it's kinda short. I started a new semester of college and -- well -- you get the point. College sucks.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

Peter stayed in the medical wing for a full week.

During all that time, he didn’t speak a single word.

_Peter didn’t speak for an entire week._

The thought made Tony physically sick to his stomach. He paced the cold tiles outside of Peter’s room anxiously. A psychiatrist that Tony had found was in there visiting with the kid right now. Everything inside of Tony begged that good news would come out of that room – that Peter would be fine – that there wasn’t anything to serious–

A door creaked. “Stark?”

Tony whipped around to see Doctor Johns worming his way out the door. He crossed the hallway. “So? Did he talk to you? Did you find anything –“

Johns held his hand up. “Maybe we should go sit somewhere.”

“Sure – sure –“ Tony gestured to some couches at the end of the hallway. His heart was beating out of control. Heat rose up his neck.

Tony sat quickly, Johns with a weary sigh. “Well, there is some good news –“ the doctor said uncertainly.

“You didn’t say that with much enthusiasm.”

“He’s healing well – physically it seems. He should be good as new very soon.”

Tony squinted his eyes. “Yeah, we have Banner for that stuff. You’re the _psychiatrist_. How is his –“

“ _Mental_ health is a different story,” Johns finished for him. “No, he didn’t talk to me.”

Tony’s shoulders slumped. “God. What in the hell –“

“It’s called selective mutism.” Johns stated frankly.

“There’s a _name_ –“

“It happens sometimes after traumatic situations.” Johns cut in. “When a person, as young as he is, goes through so much pain and fear – sometimes a part of them shuts down. He may not even fully realize he’s not speaking.”

Now Tony’s entire body was engulfed in sickening heat. The kind that suffocated. “So – so –“ he licked his lips. “So when’s he gonna talk again? It’s been a _week_. I don’t –“

“Mental health is not the same as physical health. There’s no way we can tell when he’ll fully heal – it’s completely different for every person.”

“But – he’ll be all right. Right? This isn’t some permeant thing, I mean, he has to _talk_ –“

And then, the horrible thought came into his mind. Peter – lively, energetic, talkative, genius Peter. He might really have some real damage. All those times he’d come bounding down the stairs into the lab, talking Tony’s ear off. Coming home from school, speaking so quickly that he had to pause for breath. God, he’d taken it for granted. He’d taken everything about the kid for granted.

Johns twisted his hands. “You’re a grown man, Tony. I won’t lie to you. I found it very, very – alarming – the state he was in just now.” He looked Tony right in the eyes. “I’d say – if he doesn’t start talking in the next two weeks, he’s suffered some kind of debilitating psychosis.”

A psychosis.

_Psychosis._

Tony buried his face in his hands.

*

“You had him for less than an hour. An _hour_ , you absolute assholes. Months of preparation, months of work, and you had the goddamn kid for an _hour_ –“

“Cool it, Tucker –“ Richard Parker pushed himself up out of his seat around the table, frustrated. He was in a breathtakingly expensive suit, perfectly polished and attractive. His good looks were much like his son’s, but without the effortless innocence. Instead his eyes were hard and cold. Emotionless. “He called the Avengers. Little bitch called the effing Avengers. What were we supposed to do? Maybe if you’d given us more _men_ at the mansion, we wouldn’t be having this –“

Another surly looking man piped in. “Yeah right – maybe if you hadn’t let the kid text his little sugar daddy –“

“Oh shove it, bastard’s fast –“ Richard retorted.

“So your kid’s a bastard now?”

“You know, I bet Richie’s got a little soft spot for the kid. He _let_ him text the Avengers –“

“He does look just like you, Parker –“

“ _Enough_!” Richard slammed his hand town on the table. The sound echoed through the small room. His voice was filled with fury. “Do you idiots not know me at all? How many people have I slaughtered in front of you? How many people have I stabbed in the fucking back? You think some little kid from a one night stand means _anything_ to me?”

Stunned faces met Richard’s, because they knew it was true. Richard was charismatic, he was a great speaker, an amazing agent, but he really didn’t care about much. Except for his department in Hydra. Everywhere he’d gone, he’d always risen to the head of the department.

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” Richard explained coolly, straightening his suit. “We’re gonna up the men, up the weapons, training – everything. We’re taking the hard way around, but it’s worth it because this kid is it. Something we did nine years ago _worked_ and it’s _ours_.”

His eyes glanced over everyone in the room, piercing them.

“Right? Good.” He shot a thumbs up. “Then let’s get to fucking work.”

*

_The slight warmth of the apartment complex rushed into Peter’s cheeks as he stepped through the door. He’d missed his train today, and the walk in the freezing weather hadn’t been much fun._

_Hopefully May had something hot waiting for him. Or was at least willing to order takeout._

_His feet bounded up the stairs with anticipation. The door cracked when he opened it._

_“May?” He called into the dark apartment. “You here? Why’s it so dark?”_

_It was colder inside than usual. Usually May cranked up the heat in later winter. She got cold so easily. Turning on every light possible, he slowly strode through the place. Something felt wrong. Scary, almost. He glanced into the kitchen._

_There she was, long brown hair spread across the tile floor, a shattered glass in her hand. She’d fallen by the kitchen sink, and her body was at an awkward angle. Peter felt his heartbeat go out of control._

_“May!” He cried, anguished. Instantly he was across the room and on his knees beside her. “May! May!” He shook her shoulder roughly. “Oh god, oh god. Are you all-right?” Panic was setting in heavily. It was making him lose it. Don’t lose it, Peter, he willed himself. Save her! Save her! “May! Please, please,”_

_Boiling tears were pulsing down his face at this point. She wasn’t breathing, she wasn’t_ breathing. _What was he supposed to do? Call 911? Call –_

 _A buzzing in his pocket surprised him. Scrambling to locate the source, he fumbled with his phone. It read incoming call from Tony Stark. Gosh,_ Tony!

_“Tony!” he full out screamed into the phone._

_“Jeez, kid. Break my ear drum why don’t you? Listen, can you –“_

_“Tony, help! Please, please – god –“_

_“Kid?” Tony’s voice switched instantly. The light tone was gone. “What?! Where are you?”_

_“It’s – it’s May.” He was completely sobbing now. She was cold to the touch and pale white. “She – she fell or something. She’s not waking up.”_

_“Is she breathing?”_

_“No – no – god Tony please help me – please –“_

_“Okay – okay kid I’m coming. EMT’s are on the way right now. They’ll be there quick. Just hang on – hang on –“_

_Peter was gasping, panicking, flipping out because this could not be happening. He couldn’t lose her – what was he supposed to do if he lost her? She was everything to him. She was the only person in the world that really loved him. Not May – not May –_

_Tony’s voice blared in his ear again. “Just hang on, Peter.”_

*

“All right, so you’ve gotta eat everything on that plate, kiddo. Every little bit, yeah?”

Peter sat slumped at the kitchen table. It had been his first full day out of the hospital and Tony was doing his best to take everything in full stride. Feed the kid three times a day, take him outside, give him pain pills, watch movies with him, never leave his freaking side.

Yeah – it was a little much.

But Peter really couldn’t be left alone. The kid couldn’t talk for shit’s sake, what if he like, tripped down the stairs or something? What would he do? Call for help? No. He’d just sit there and freaking die without Tony.

It didn’t bother Tony, not at all. Peter had never bothered him. But it was worrying. So, so painfully worrying. It was day eight now. Eight days without Peter talking. Eight days with a completely listless kid at his side.

Peter looked up at Tony from his seat with huge eyes. There were still bruises on his face. “Can you do that, kiddo?”

Looking down at his food, Peter shrugged. Tony patted him on the back.

“Good. That’s what I thought. We can watch a show after, okay? I’ll even let the other guys come up to keep us company.”

Peter’s head shot up at that. His face seemed to perk up a little. Tony grinned.

“Yeah? Good plan?”

Peter nodded slowly, which Tony took as a good sign. The kid was at least communicating. That was a step in the correct direction, wasn’t it?

_Yeah, Tony. The kid knows how to communicate. Gold star for you._

Freaking rude thoughts.

He watched Peter eat tiny bits of dinner from his own spot across the table. Filling the frigid silence, he chatted on and on about basically nothing. Peter probably wasn’t even listening. Tony wasn’t listening to himself much either. All that really flashed in his head was the memory of Peter’s bleeding mouth, his terrified little face – shaking limbs.

And of course the echo of him crying, _“I’ve never felt so hurt in my life.”_

Dear god.

Peter wasn’t the only one who needed therapy.

*

“How about this one, bug?” Clint held up _I Am Legend_ to Peter, who was sitting curled up on the couch. “You love zombies.”

Peter smiled halfway but shrugged.

“That’s not the response I wanted. Okay. What about – oh man, we could watch the rest of The Walking Dead? Kid you’ve gotta –“

Tony crossed the room in an instant and bent down to Clint’s ear, cutting him off. “How about something _not_ completely violent for the traumatized child? Yeah?”

Clint went white. “Uh – yeah –“ He glanced over at Peter, who seemed to be in his own universe. “I forgot. New season sucked. Nat?”

“I want a chick flick,” said Natasha smoothly, thankfully catching on.

Sam let his head fall back. “Good gosh, help us all.”

“What? I’m a chick. I need one. I always watch stupid ass movies with you boys.”

“Right. Yes.” Tony situated himself by Peter and pulled him close. “Let Nat pick. Much better.”

There was a strange tension in the air, even though they’d all done this countless times before. When the team had arrived, Steve had patted the kid affectionately on the back, Natalie had ruffled his hair, Clint lifted him off his feet, Rhodey wrapped him up tight, Wanda kissed the top of his head. They adored him. They were thrilled to see him. But Tony had informed them all beforehand. They knew it wasn’t the same Peter anymore. It was a Peter made of glass.

Natalie put in _Sleepless in Seattle_ as Tony put his arm around Peter. Sam and Clint both groaned. Natalie chucked a pillow at them.

Peter’s gaze was on Tony, who looked down at the kid. His eyes were full of something. Red rimmed with gray bags underneath and completely unreadable. Tony looked right into Peter’s expression, trying desperately to discern what he might be wanting to say. God, if only he’d invented how to read minds at this point…

“You good, Petey?” Tony asked softly.

Peter nodded.

“You get enough dinner?”

Nod.

“You hurting at all?”

Head shake this time.

“You tired?”

Peter paused, then shrugged.

Damn. Yes or no questions never got anything – but then again, nothing Tony said got anything. The psychiatrist had told Tony that under no circumstances should he force Peter to talk. None at all. No matter how painful it got. The kid was way too fragile for that. He was just gonna have to sit around and wait, which was never really a Tony Stark thing to do.

Yeah – stupid Johns had just said to be super gentle with the kid. Non-threatening, sweet, kind – all that shit that sounded almost motherly and wasn’t Tony’s main strength. Yeah he’d always been nicer to the kid than other people – but they were still buddies. They joked around, messed around. It couldn’t be like that right now, Collins had explained.

_“Right now,” said Johns. “Peter just needs someone there for him. He needs someone to love him.”_

_Tony’s thoughts came in bitter. Well – that’s me, right? Isn’t that what I’m doing?_

Yeah, that’s what he would be doing. Be there. Be loving. Right. Loving.

“So you’re all good, huh?” Tony had picked up with Peter again. The kid smiled faintly. “Peter Parker’s completely set to watch some girl movie?”

Peter nodded.

“All right. Well –“ Tony swallowed a lump in his throat and looked directly into the kid’s face. “I sure love you, Peter. I really, really do.”

There. Wasn’t so hard, right?

For a moment, Peter’s eyes looked a little brighter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a while again. Please leave a comment of your thoughts, y'all are the bomb!

Richard Parker’s trail had gone completely cold. It had been three weeks since the attack, and the Avengers still sat with absolutely no clue where the man or his followers had gone. That, and they had no way to know what Richard was after because Peter couldn’t speak.

Steve had tried to get him to answer a few questions via pencil and paper but Peter had adamantly refused. Just at the sight of the paper had turned Peter white. He shook and looked around the room for Tony – wanting his guardian to save him, wanting a way out. And Tony gave in every time. He found it nearly impossible not to.

Tony didn’t know how to watch the kid struggle. It frustrated Steve, he knew. But the psychiatrist didn’t seem to want to force Peter, so Tony listened.

“ _Force_ is different than _try,_ Tony,” Steve had whispered angrily one day. They stood in the dark of the hallway, keeping their voices low for Peter who was in the living room. “I don’t want to force him into anything either. I just want to try. If we keep trying to get him to say something, maybe –“

“No.” Tony finalized in a hushed tone. “You don’t know – you don’t get it. You don’t see him all day.”

And it was true. Steve didn’t. He didn’t see Peter sit on the roof, hour after hour, with knees pulled up to his chest and face strained. He didn’t have to watch Peter jump at any loud noise or flinch at sharp movements. He didn’t hear quiet crying noises from the shower or bedroom or balcony. He just _didn’t get it_.

“Maybe that’s why I can help. It’s not as personal for me.”

“It is personal for you, and you know it.”

“Perhaps. But Tony –“ Steve pursed his lips. “You’ve gotta try something. He’s slipping more and more everyday. Nothing is changing –“

“You don’t –“

“You’re losing him, Tony. Plain and simple. You’re going to completely lose him.”

Tears instantly sprang up in Tony’s eyes. Prickling hurt rose up in his body at the harsh comment. Normally he could hold his own with Steve. He was good at comebacks and snarky remarks. But his heart just wasn’t in it anymore. There was too much emotional strain, too much fear.

Not wanting Steve to see him cry, he pushed past the man and exited the dark hall.

*

_“You scared?”_

_“No.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“Oh yeah – totally sure. Absolutely sure.”_

_“Yeah? Well you must be freezing, because your hands are shaking like crazy.”_

_“All right, fine –“ sighed Peter, exasperated. They both sat backwards on the edge of a speedboat, with necks turned to look at each other. “little nervous, yes. But excited too. Excited nervous, ya know?”_

_Tony snickered slightly. “Sure, I know.”_

_“Why are we even doing this again? Aren’t you like, a busy man or something?”_

_“I’m totally busy. Busy scuba diving my ass off.”_

_“Your ass off. Wow, that’s –“_

_“Plus,” Tony shrugged, holding himself in a sitting position. “We’ve gotta do stuff together, you know. Bonding and shit.”_

_Peter nodded. “Right. Of course. I love bonding. And shit.”_

_“Nice language.”_

_“Right?” Peter retorted. “I learned from the best.” Then he spontaneously flipped backward off the boat, into the incredibly calm ocean, being sure to hold his nose._

_The cool water rushed all over Peter’s body. He flipped himself around to be able to propel himself down further towards the ocean floor. A light splash sounded from above – that was Tony._

_They were off the coast of Mexico, so the sun was blinding and the water clear. Tony had taken him out to this specific spot because there were supposed to be whale sharks feeding here, and they would be able to swim with them._

_The two scanned their surroundings, taking in the array of colors on the ocean floor. Peter took in a deep breath of awe, feeling wonderful because it was so quiet, so still. He could just be nice and silent down here. No one was staring at him, reading his expression. No one needed him to talk._

_Sometimes it was nice not to talk._

*

“Okay, I will honestly be three hours tops. You just gotta take care of him for three hours.”

“Tony, please –“ Clint rolled his eyes and looked over at Natasha. “We’re fucking pros.”

“And don’t curse around him. See? You’re already at strike one.”

“Don’t curse?” Natasha scoffed. “That’s rich. You do it all the time.”

Tony shuffled his feet and ignored his ever buzzing phone. “That was – before. It’s different now. Just –“ he ran a hand down his face. “Just make sure he eats something for dinner. Put some fruit and vegetables in there – and watch to see that he drinks all his water, he doesn’t sometimes –“

“God, dude –“ sighed Clint. “You treat him like he’s five.”

Tony’s jaw was set in annoyance. “Just shut up. Can you do this for me or not? Because Fury’s up my butt right now trying to get info about Dick and I really don’t need another thing to worry about.”

“All right, all right,” Natasha held a calming hand up. “Cool it. Barton was just kidding.”

“No he wasn’t. I see how you guys look at the two of us. Like I’m some sissy for treating him the way I do.” Tony pulled out his phone and groaned at whatever was on the screen. “Just –“

“We’ll take care of things,” Clint cut in. “No worries Tony.”

Tony gave a humorless chuckle. “Right. No worries. That’s me.” He turned on his heel and headed for the front door.

“Wait!” Natasha called. “Did you tell Peter you’re leaving?”

Tony’s hand sat frozen on the door handle for a moment. “No,” he expressed quietly. “I – I – if I tell him, he’ll get that look on his face and I’ll never leave.”

Clint and Natasha exchanged worried expressions. Tony squeezed his eyes tight for a moment and then slammed the door behind him.

*

“Your searches before the attack on Peter were accurate. There’s practically no data at all on Richard Parker.”

Tony nodded, confused, as he walked down a long corridor with Nick Fury. He’d called him here to tell him they had found nothing as well?

“Right. I knew that. You couldn’t have told me that over the phone?”

“Don’t be an asshole here, Stark. We’ve been searching out this guy for three weeks straight. I think you’ll be pretty surprised with what we found.”

“You _just_ said –“

“I said _your_ searches turned up nothing. But our Hydra spies? Oh, they found something.”

Tony stopped so hard that his shoes made a loud squeak. He stared at Nick in absolute astonishment. Nick looked almost smug.

“Yep,” Fury confirmed.

“No _way._ ”

“Yep.”

“No.”

“Well, Stark –”

“No. Way.” Tony turned and took a few steps away from Nick, running his hands over his hair violently. “Richard? Richard Parker?” He faced Nick again. “Hydra? He’s part of Hydra?”

“ _Part_ of Hydra,” Nick chuckled and gestured for Tony to keep following him towards a set of double doors. Tony hurried to keep up. As Nick pushed into the other room he said. “Richard Parker’s not just part of Hydra. He’s one of their favorites. He’s a specialist. They _love_ him.”

Tony’s jaw dropped as he took in the room filled with agents on computers all with information about Richard. He interlocked his fingers together and placed them on top of his head.

“Get _out_ ,” His eyes scanned numerous photos and videos flashing of an older man that looked uncomfortably like Peter. “This is Peter’s _dad?_ ” He glanced quickly away from a video of Richard beheading a man. “Peter – perfect, innocent, never hurt a person in his life – Peter, is the son of one of Hydra’s special agents?”

“It would seem so,” explained Nick. “The resemblance _is_ surprising –“

“No kidding,” Tony shook his head in amazement. “It’s just – insane. Peter’s so good, how can he be so –“

“Bad? Oh he’s worse than you’d ever believe –“

“Trust me, I know,” Tony said, gritting his teeth. “He beat the absolute shit out of his own son. I know.”

Fury looked extremely uncomfortable now. “Right, well – it wouldn’t be the first –“ He paused. “You really care about this Peter kid, don’t you?”

Fury was sort of freaking Tony out with the weird look on his face. “Um, yeah. I do. A lot.”

“That’s what I thought.” Fury breathed in deep.

Tony’s anxiety skyrocketed. “What? Spit it out.”

“Stark –“ Nick paused again.

“ _What?”_

The words came out of Nick as if they were painful. “I’ll – I’ll let you choose for yourself. We’ve got some videos of Peter. When he was a child. From Hydra’s databases.”

The atmosphere in the room changed drastically for Tony. “No,” he rasped.

“I can explain what happened in them, or I can show you. I won’t judge whatever you choose.”

_Richard you son of a bitch._

It wasn’t going to be good. Fury never looked distraught like this. He was always harsh, calm, and collected. Nothing ever gave him this sick expression he was wearing.

He had to know. Whatever it was must be affecting Peter somehow at the moment. Maybe if he knew exactly what had happened, he would know how to help more.

“God,” Tony exhaled. “Does – do all these people have to be in the room when I watch it?”

Fury looked concerned. “No, they don’t. Stark, are you _sure?”_

Tony tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat. His stomach was filled with lead, his limbs shook. God what did they do to him. What did they do to Peter?”

“I’m sure.” He breathed deeply through the nose. “I have to know.”

Fury nodded. “Yeah – I was guessing you’d say that.”

*

_“Hey Tony?”_

_Tony didn’t look up. “Yeah kiddo?”_

_“Are – are you okay?”_

_He lifted his head slightly. “Um, yeah? Why do you ask?”_

_Peter shifted nervously. “Well – just – you haven’t talked much today, and you’ve kinda drank more than usual and you’re just laying there on the couch –“_

_Tony groaned a little louder than he meant to and hurt crossed Peter’s face. Feeling guilty, Tony swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up._

_“No, no –“ Peter protested. “You don’t have to get up, I was just –“_

_“Nah, just sitting,” he held his arm out. “Come here, kiddo,”_

_Peter obeyed meekly and took a seat. Tony limply placed his arm around the kid’s shoulders and laid his head back. They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Tony couldn’t quite find the energy to say anything._

_“Are you –“ Peter licked his lips. “Are you sad today?”_

_Tony huffed a little laugh and turned to face Peter. “You’re a good kid, Parker.”_

_“Um, thanks. But can you answer my question?”_

_He pulled Peter a little closer, finding comfort in the kid. “Yeah, I’m kinda sad today. It’s okay though.”_

_Peter nodded and looked down at his hands. Tony hoped he would just leave it at that, but, well, this was Peter. Curious little kiddo._

_His voice came in a whisper. “Why are you sad?”_

_“It’s not really something I like to talk about, Pete.”_

_“We don’t have to talk about it. I just wanna know.”_

_“How come?”_

_Peter shrugged. “You always ask me why I’m sad. I don’t like it at first, but then I do because it feels nice sometimes for someone else to at least know. It’s hard to be the only one.”_

_Tony considered Peter’s expression for a moment. His face was earnest, eyes big. “Well, kid, my – my parents died today.”_

_Peter’s face conveyed shock. “Oh.”_

_Tony nodded and looked away. Peter squished himself closer. “I’m super sorry,”_

_Something warm settled in Tony’s stomach. He realized that no one had never really expressed that they were sorry for Tony – for anything. It was always, ‘You know they loved you, Tony’, ‘It will get better with time’, ‘You just need to be strong’._

_Well sometimes he didn’t want to be strong. Sometimes life plain sucked and crappy things happened and he didn’t want to be given an inspirational speech – he just wanted to wallow._

_No one had ever said, ‘I’m sorry your parents died.’_

_No one had really cared._

_Somehow, this fifteen-year-old kiddo knew more than everyone else._

_So he smiled weakly down at Peter, brushed a bit of his hair back, and said, “Thanks, kid. That actually – really means a lot.”_

*

Nick and Tony stood in front of a large hologram screen, transfixed. The go had been given, and Fury’s stolen Hydra records were about to play. Tony wished Pepper could be there to keep him from passing out.

Fury looked sideways as a lab-like hospital room came into view on the screen. “You should probably sit down, Stark.”

Tony kept himself impassive, trying desperately to keep it together for as long as possible. “I’ll stand.”

Richard Parker came into view on the screen, carrying a little child in his arms. The child’s face was buried in the large man’s shoulder. Richard set him down roughly on the lab table.

Then he came clearly into view. Sweet little Peter Parker – complete with the huge eyes and curly hair – sat shivering as his six year old self. Was Richard really going to hurt that boy? How could that even be possible?

“All right,” rang out Richard’s voice, loud and confident. “Subject Peter, with dose eleven, sample number fifty-two.”

Peter shook violently. “D-d-daddy – I’m cold, dad –“

Richard grabbed his son’s arm. “Shush, Peter. If you keep quiet, this will be done fast.”

The plunger was pushed and unknown liquid was forced into Peter’s veins. Tony felt ill at the thought of some substance running through Peter’s body, hurting him, changing him –

Within minutes of the injection, Peter started weeping and clawing at his arms. Richard stood still, taking notes on a clipboard. The child cried that his blood felt freezing, that he ached, that he couldn’t breathe. He cried and cried and the noises rang out of the screen, piercing Tony’s ears, churning his stomach.

There were dozens of videos that contained the same thing. Peter, begging for his dad to help him, screaming with pain in a dark room on a metal table. Tony felt like he stood there for hours until he was finally done. Fury called it quits and stared at Tony worriedly.

Tony swallowed. “Well that’s – that’s –“ He doubled over and placed his hands on his thighs. “I’ll kill him. I’m gonna –“

That was it. No more stomach control. “Bathroom’s right outside,” Fury informed.

Tony rushed there, desperate to be away, desperate to relieve his aching stomach somehow. He pushed through the bathroom door and hardly made it to the toilet before he threw up everywhere. Peter’s childlike face, so scared, so terrified. It was utterly revolting.

He sat there for nearly an hour, retching out pain and filling with pure anger.

*

It was dark when he returned to the tower. Soft footsteps came rushing at him quickly. Tony turned on the light to see who it was.

Peter was up off the couch already, making his way anxiously towards Tony. Clint and Sam sat passed out in the living room. Peter’s eyes were wide and it snapped Tony’s heart.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony voiced quietly. “Sorry I had to go for a bit – you miss me?”

Peter nodded fervently. He hurried forward and Tony held his arms out instinctively.

The kid folded into Tony, who wrapped him up tight. “I got you now, you’re good.” Tears sprang up in his eyes and he hugged Peter tight. “I love you, Peter. I’ve got you.”

They stood like that for a while, and even when a while passed, Tony still found it difficult to let go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments. I know I don't respond, because I really just don't have a minute to do that. But I really do read every single one and they make me so happy. You guys are awesome!!

“Let me get this straight. My kid, _my_ child that I am responsible for came to you with some traumatic, repressed memories and you didn’t _tell_ me about it?”

Wanda sat curled in a chair at the kitchen table with huge tears in her eyes. Tony paced back and forth, frustrated. The rest of the team sat near her, looking as if they wanted to be of some defense for their teammate, but didn’t want to challenge Tony at the same time.

“I – I’m sorry. I had no idea it had anything to do with Richard, or why he’s not talking – I didn’t know –“

“How could you not have known?” Tony threw his hands up. “Or at least suspected? Are you that up in the clouds? Honestly –“

“Tony,” Steve cut him off. “If she says she didn’t know, she didn’t know. There’s no use in pointing blame at this point.”

“Fuck off, Steve,” Tony shot.

“ _Damn_.” Clint whispered.

Steve rose from his chair. “Really? That’s how you’re gonna handle this?”

Tony took a few steps closer to Cap. “Hell yeah it is! Here I am, frantic about this kid, fucking running around with no idea what to do, and little miss mind games here has a huge clue at her fingertips. I could have known he had these memories three weeks ago –“

“And what would you have done about it then?” Steve asked loudly. Natasha glanced back towards Peter’s room nervously. “That’s right! Nothing! Would you have tried to talk to the kid about it? No. No, you’d just give in to every one of his little –“

“Let’s go right now you piece of shit,” Tony stepped even closer, breathing heavily. “Cause you’re talking about things that are none of your fucking business and I’d _really_ love to blow off some steam –“

“All right!” Rhodey jumped up and grabbed Tony’s upper arm. Sam did the same with Cap. “That’s enough. You are me will –“

“What do you mean none of my business? How is any of this none of my business? I _killed_ two men for that boy, I fought for him, I –“

“Say ‘I’ one more time Cap,” Tony seethed from Rhodey’s grip. He wrenched himself away. Rhodey looked a little put off now and didn’t put up much of a fight. Tony got up in Steve’s face again. “You know why it’s none of your business? Because he’s _mine_. He came to _me_ when he needed help, _I_ took him in. Not you. You _don’t get a say_.”

“Why not?” Steve lowered his voice a bit. “I care about him –“

“Do you?” Tony asked coolly. “Or do you care about having control of him?”

Steve gaped for a second, his mouth opening and closing. Clint sighed. “You idiots know the kid has super hearing, right?”

“He’s down in the lab,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “That place is everything proofed. He can’t hear us up here.”

“Well,” Clint stood up. “You’re still idiots. We just found out Peter’s dad is in Hydra. We found out that he was fucking tortured as a child and you’re fighting about who knows best? Who cares? Richard is probably planning to come back for the kid any day! Let’s worry about that before having some epic cock fight!”

Tony’s cheeks were bright red. Something deflated in him at the word _torture_. He grew extremely weary all of the sudden, limp arms falling to his sides. Tears sprang up in his eyes again. God, he’d never cried so much in all his life. Well, not true. He’d cried a lot. Just not in front of people.

“All right,” said Rhodey, seeing Tony’s change in emotions. “We’re done here for a little while,” He pulled on Tony’s arm. “Let’s –“

Steve had obviously lost the fight in him at Clint’s words as well. He ran a hand down his face. “Tony –“

Tony raised his hand to silence him. If Steve talked any more he’d start bawling.

Rhodey gave another tug. “Come on, man. We can get some air –“

Hurriedly, Rhodey guided Tony out to the balcony while the team watched in silence. The air outside was cool and fresh with rain. Tony gulped it in frantically. Rhodey placed an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“Tony –“ Rhodey began.

Tony had already lost it. Hot, numerous tears poured down his face and onto his chin. “They tortured him,” he gasped.

Rhodey rubbed his arm. “I know, man.”

“They _tortured_ him,” Tony gasped. “You should have – sh-should have seen his face. He was so little – so – so – gosh,” He tried to breathe. It came in a shudder. “So _fucking_ helpless –“

Then he just let himself cry. Because it sucked and the kid that had been so good had the worst luck. It wasn’t fair. Peter didn’t deserve any of this shit.

So he cried until he couldn’t any more.

*

_Tony had a list crumpled up in his pocket. He had been thinking of things for the past few days that he needed to be better about, and writing them down helped him remember._

_Stop drinking._

_Take explosives out of the lab._

_Buy healthy food._

_Make sure Peter eats._

_Make sure Peter actually goes to sleep._

_Buy Peter a new coat._

_Don’t give Peter mushrooms._

_Or peppers._

_Buy pickles._

_He was a little out of his element. He’d never actually had anyone entirely depend on him before. Yet here he stood, in front of May Parker’s coffin, with a trembling Peter clutching at him like a lifeline. The kid was a touchy little thing. He was more affectionate than anyone Tony had ever met._

_The priest looked over at Peter. “You prepared something son?”_

_Peter nodded minutely. Tony watched him carefully, ready to swoop in if it was too much or if he couldn’t do it._

_“She – she –“ Peter took a deep breath. “She was the best lady in the entire world. I wasn’t her son, I wasn’t even her blood nephew. But she –“ his voice trembled so much it was nearly impossible to decipher. “She loved me. She loved me more than I think most parents love their kids. She always hugged me. Every single day, without fail. She was just – the best person. I’ll never know anyone like her.”_

_It was dead silent. Peter gasped a few times and held onto Tony tighter. This time, Tony returned the gesture more fervently, holding the kid close._

_As they walked from the coffin and got in the car, Tony silently pulled his list from the suit pocket. As he settled Peter’s weeping form into his lap, he wrote, ‘Hug Peter more’._

*

Queens was suffering. Tony hated to admit it to himself, but it was a fact at this point. Peter hadn’t been Spiderman for over a month now, with Richard popping into his life and the emotional strain. Crime was rampant in Peter’s old home.

He, Clint and Natasha had been watching on the news numerous reporters ask where Spiderman was. Could he be dead? Was he just not taking care of Queens anymore? Tony felt a punch on his arm which made him look up to see Peter standing in the kitchen, obviously hearing everything on the television. Tony turned it off instantly, but the damage was already done.

That was Peter’s third emotional meltdown.

They included him literally falling to the floor in a pile of sobs. He would be completely inconsolable for around twenty minutes, or until Tony finally decided to carry him off to bed where he’d gasp until he cried himself to sleep.

It was some of the scariest shit Tony had ever witnessed.

“It’s been nearly a month now,” said Doctor Johns over coffee in the kitchen one day. Peter was sitting in his favorite spot on the roof. “We might need to start thinking about – arrangements –“

Tony’s head shot up. “Arrangements? For what?”

“I’ve evaluated him just now. It’s clear some psychosis has occurred. Those aren’t exactly – reversible.”

“What if he just needs some time? What if he just needs a break?”

“A break would be him sleeping extra, or watching lots of television. A break is not having metal breakdowns, eating nothing, and not speaking for an entire month –“

“All right, all right,” expressed Tony, distraught. “But what arrangements?”

Johns looked extremely uncomfortable. “Well – I mean –“

“Wait –“ A realization came sparking into Tony like pure fury. “You – you mean like put him in a _psych_ ward?”

Johns held his hand up. “Now look, with the right money, it can really –“

Tony burst out of his seat. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up right now. Are you really that stupid? Do you really think I’d leave him like that?”

“Are you ready to take care of him for the rest of his life?” Johns retorted. “Because that’s what it’s looking like right now. You might have to take care of him in this state for the _rest of his life_.”

Tony downed the rest of his coffee in a swig. “Awesome. I’ll love it. We’ll watch movies all night and I won’t have to worry about him talking through it.”

“This isn’t a joke, Stark –“

“No it’s not. But me sending him away definitely is –“ He looked Johns in the face. “You can leave now.”

The man left in a fuss. Tony watched him go. He headed up to the roof and on his way he said, “Peace out, asshole.”

He took the stairs two at a time on his way up. It helped him to go fast – the pace burned off some of the frustration pent up inside.

Peter sat, looking small and curled up against the incredible skyline. Tony approached him slowly.

“Hey kiddie,” He began. Peter looked up at him curiously. “Let’s go out on the water. The sun’s gonna set in a bit, we can watch it if you want.”

He’d been hesitant to take Peter to the ocean, in case he had a meltdown. Tony never knew what the kid was going to do, so he’d have to watch him very closely.

Tony held out his hand to pull Peter up. “Well? You wanna?”

Peter hesitated for a moment but nodded and took Tony’s hand. He lifted the kind into a standing position.

“Awesome, Pete. Right answer.”

*

It was one of the prettiest nights Tony had ever seen. The sunset had been awesome, but the darkness that came after was even more incredible. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so the stars gleamed on the water like small diamonds. The moon was full and stretched over the waves in a silvery shine. Peter sat bundled up in a million blankets, cheeks red and eyes glittering.

Tony plopped himself next to the kid and drew him in. “You cool with sitting with your old man for a bit?”

Peter nodded and snuggled closer.

Tony talked then. Sometimes around Peter he would just word vomit in an uncontrollable way. He talked to Peter about the things he was working on in the lab, which led to some of the first things he’d ever built, which led to his childhood, which led to his parents –

“He really was an asshole, my dad –“ Tony said offhandedly. “Everything I did bugged him. I almost never spoke around him because he’d get pissed. Maybe his dad did the same thing to him. Who knows. But he was an ass. I heard later that he loved me a lot, but why couldn’t he have told me that? I think if you really love someone, you should let them know.”

Peter nodded.

“Like you. I love you a lot. Like, a lot. Cause you’re the best kid in the whole world and you make me super happy. Even if you were a punk kid, I’d still love you.”

Peter smiled slightly.

“You know that, right?” Tony shook Peter a little. “You know I love you?”

Peter sat still for a second, but then looked into Tony’s eyes and nodded.

“Good, good. God this is cheesy. Way too cheesy, huh kid?”

Peter shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.” The boat gave a little lurch. The currents had been crazy. “Dang, good thing we have the anchor down,” said Tony. “We’d get swept off.”

They sat in more silence.

“The ocean’s kinda weird, if you think about it,” commented Tony to fill the silence. “Like, I’ve always wanted to go out boating but just let it take me wherever I want. Just let the tides do their thing. But then, what if it took me somewhere weird? What if it took me somewhere shitty?”

Peter smiled again.

“I guess, you just have to deal with shit sometimes. Sorry for the language, kid.”

Peter shrugged.

Tony pulled him closer. “But really. Like sometimes life just takes you down dumb paths and you have to accept it. You can’t change back time.”

He took a deep breath. “Damn. Listen to me. I’m like freaking Aristotle.”

Peter let out a little chuckle and Tony started. He hadn’t heard Peter laugh at all in so long. The kid held onto Tony tight, almost desperately. Tony thought of the future, a quiet kid at his side at all times. He could do it, he decided. There would be some major life changes, but there had been when he first took Peter in as well.

Then the kid took in a huge breath.

It was so quiet – if everything hadn’t been so calm Tony might have never heard it.

Peter opened his mouth and formed words. “Thanks so much for – for everything –“

Tony’s heart leapt. He gripped Peter tight by the shoulders and gasped loudly. Could it have really happened? Was this a dream? Did the kid really speak?

He looked at the kid and gasped again. “ _Peter,”_

Peter shrugged and said softly. “Hey, Tony.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!!!

“Hey kiddie,” Tony gasped, thrilled. His heart burst with happiness. “Hey – it’s so – so –“ He put his hands on both sides of the kid’s face. “Aw _Peter,”_

Then he wrapped his arms tight around the boy, who returned the gesture fervently. Peter clutched at Tony, burying his head under his chin, sniffling softly.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. “I’m so sorry,”

Tony squeezed him tighter. “No, no, no Peter don’t be sorry, you don’t need to be. Hey,” He tilted Peter’s chin up. “You hear me?”

Peter just shook his head. “I _am_ sorry –“

“Pete –“

“Cause – cause,” tears were filling his eyes now, making them look glassy. “I _knew_ how much I was freaking you out, I knew I was hurting everyone but – but I still did it anyways. I still didn’t talk –“

“Hey, you know what,” Tony still held Peter close but looked into his face. He was almost giddy with excitement at hearing the kid speak so many words at once. “The mind is a weird thing, Peter. It does weird things sometimes. You weren’t trying to hurt anyone, just, that’s how you felt like reacting is all. It’s okay, all right? It’s _okay._ ”

“It’s just – just the thought of having to talk about it, just –“ Peter swallowed, looking sick.

Tony rubbed his shoulder. “Hey, take it slow, take it easy –“

“It made me so scared,” Peter finished. “I don’t know why.”

“It’s hard to talk about things like that, trust me, I know,” He smiled down at Peter. “Gosh, I can’t even tell you how good it is to hear your voice.”

Peter smiled slightly back, but it faded fast. He got a nervous look on his face. “But I – I’ve gotta talk about it. I’m going crazy, Tony. I think I might be going crazy.”

“You’re not going crazy.”

“I am. I – I really am.”

“I won’t let you. Okay?”

Peter gazed up at Tony, so painfully trusting but guarded at the same time. “Okay,” He said, voice small.

Tony raced through his thoughts, trying to get out the best way to handle this. “So – so, let’s talk. Let’s talk about this.”

Peter looked down at his hands. “Right now?”

“Well –“ Tony looked around. “I’m not going to make you do anything. But we’re pretty secluded, and honestly,” He squeezed Peter’s hand. “Why put it off any more?”

Peter nodded and looked pointedly away from Tony. Instead his eyes traced the waves and the stars that rose and fell with them. He dug fingernails into the palms of his hands sharply and Tony automatically pulled them away.

“When you – when someone,” Peter took in a shuddering breath. Tony nodded him on kindly. “When someone just – just -- just hates someone, even from when they were a little kid, why – why does that happen?”

Tony cocked his head to the side, trying to understand Peter’s question. “Are you asking, why do some people hate their kids?”

Peter shrugged. “I – I guess so.”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t know why. I don’t know why some people are mean and hurtful to their children, but it’s never right. _Never.”_

“Is it – and be honest with me. Is it ever the kid’s fault? Do you think?”

Tony stared at Peter for a second – Peter, who looked about four years younger, skinny and trembling. He gripped the kid’s hands tightly.

“Listen to me.” He told him seriously. “If you ever listen to anything I say, listen to this. You are a _wonderful_ person. I mean that. Why would I lie to you? I don’t lie to anyone about that kind of stuff, so know that I mean it. You are a freaking _good_ person. And I’m sure you were the cutest, sweetest little kid ever. There is no reason at all for your dad to have hated you,”

Peter flinched at the ‘ _your dad’_ part. “But –“

“Nah, just listen to me to a second, kiddie. That’s just a fact. There’s no reason. He did what he did because he’s a bad person. Sometimes people are just terrible, okay?” He ran a hand over Peter’s hair. “You did _not_ deserve what happened to you, I swear.”

“But – but –“ Peter’s right hand trembled. Tony tried to keep it still. “But – but – ugh,” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t freaking _talk_ , Tony,”

“It’s all right,” Tony kept trying to contain the tremor. “You’re doing great, it’s okay,”

Peter took in a deep breath. “But, you – you really don’t think I – I could’ve done anything? Different, I mean –“

“Done something different to get your dad to like you?” Tony clarified. Peter nodded. “No, kiddo. He’s just a bad person. There’s nothing you could have done. I can’t imagine you getting any better than you already are.”

Peter’s face beamed, looking earnest. Then, once again, it fell. “He – he did stuff to me. When – when I was little.”

Tony nodded. “I know, kiddo.” Peter raised his eyebrows. Tony explained, “Nick Fury told me, so we’d know what we were dealing with.”

“He tortured me. I – I remembered, when I left with him in the car. I didn’t – didn’t remember before –“

“Peter –“

“I just don’t –“ Peter shut his eyes tight, and a few tears spilled out. “Don’t – get it. Why would he do that?”

“I have no clue why, he’s evil, Peter,”

Peter’s breaths were coming in short and spastic now. He rested his forehead on Tony’s chest. “Why would he do that? Why – why –“

“I don’t know, kid. But I’m here, okay? You don’t have to worry about him because you’re here with me now.” He pulled Peter up to look at him and placed a hand on the side of his face. “Your constant.”

*

Peter had talked quite a bit out on the boat, but he still kept pretty quiet around others. Tony sent out a mass text to the entire team letting them know that Peter had started talking again, but to leave him alone about it and not be freaky.

It proved to be very difficult for them.

Clint had nearly dropped his plate when Peter had muttered a, “Morning, Barton,” the next day. He wrapped Peter up in a huge hug, a slight smile rising on the kid’s face.

Tony watched on anxiously, seeing him interact with them all slowly, saying small statements. They were careful with him, as usual. Except for Steve.

Fucking Steve.

He asked the kid a lot of questions, getting him flustered and frantic looking. Tony rushed in to the rescue ever time.

“Tell me about your day, Peter.”

“How you been feeling Peter?”

“We should start training, Peter. What do you think?”

Idiot.

“I swear to fucking shit, if you damage him at all I’ll tear you apart, Rogers,” Tony told him a couple days later in the kitchen. “Let him _alone,”_

“What am I doing?” Steve threw his hands up. “Trying to treat him like a normal person again?”

“You’re trying too fast. Just be like everyone else, would ya?”

“No way. He’s needs to get back on his game quick. Richard is coming back for him, we know that. We all need to be ready.”

“If he comes back, we’ll take care of it. Peter will not be involved at all.”

“But how do you _know_?” Steve pressed. “What if he comes back and he’s extra prepared and you aren’t enough?” Tony glared. “What if you aren’t enough?”

*

_“Gosh kid, don’t do that,”_

_Peter started and turned around from his spot sitting on the other side of the balcony’s railing. Tony stood there, looking slightly worried._

_“Do what?”_

_Tony stepped closer. “Sit over the side of the balcony like that. It’s freaking me out.”_

_Peter tried to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it. He just said, “Sorry.”_

_“Well, just –“ Tony held his hand over the side. “Come on back over.”_

_Peter took his hand and pulled himself up. “I was fine.”_

_“I’m sure you were,” Tony’s voice was soft._

_He placed his legs over the rail and jumped down to the ground. Tony held him by the shoulders to keep him steady._

_“Everything okay, kiddo?”_

_Peter shrugged. “Yeah. Totally.”_

_It actually wasn’t at all. Peter had seen a mom picking her kid up from school that day. She’d given him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. It had sent Peter nearly spiraling. May died five months ago but sometimes it would hurt so badly that it was almost physical._

_But it had been five months. At this point people weren’t as sympathetic anymore. So Peter kept the hurt more hidden. It was easier that way._

_Unfortunately, Tony was a little too observant. He gave Peter a long, searching look._

_“You sure?”_

_Peter couldn’t talk without crying, so he just nodded._

_Tony peered down to see Peter’s face. “Hey,” he shook him a little. “Peter,”_

_“What?” Peter had to whisper to keep his voice from betrayal._

_“Tell me what’s up.”_

_Peter shook his head. His throat was beginning to hurt._

_“Come on – hey,” He’d seen a tear coursing down Peter’s face. “Kid, hey, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”_

_He shook his head again. “Nothing – nothing –“_

_“Well it’s something,” Tony kept his hands firmly on Peter’s shoulders. “Bad day?”_

_Peter wiped his face, annoyed at himself. “Kinda. Really though, it’s nothing.”_

_“Well, crying isn’t nothing, Peter.”_

_“I’m just a little sad.” He sucked in a deep breath. “It’s fine.”_

_Tony sighed. Peter winced, guilty at possibly irritating him. But, like usual, Tony surprised him._

_“You know – it’s_ okay _to be sad, kid. You don’t need to sit out here hiding it.”_

_Peter shot his eyes up to Tony’s. “What – what do you mean it’s okay?”_

_Tony shrugged. “Like if you’re sad, you’re sad. You come to me and I’ll help you. But don’t cry all by yourself.” He rubbed a thumb on Peter’s arm. “That’s no good.”_

_“It’s just – well, it’s been a while now. I don’t want to be – annoying or anything. I don’t know.”_

_Tony sucked in a breath and stared at Peter. “Hm. Well – for the sake of my sanity I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that you need to completely be over everything in five months. I’m gonna do that.”_

_Peter quirked the side of his mouth up._

_“Come on,” Tony gestured inside with his head. “It’s cold out here. It’s okay to be sad, all right?” Peter nodded. “It’s just part of being human.”_

*

Peter was exhausted.

The worst part was, it wasn’t exhaustion from working hard or saving people – it was merely from being around people and having to talk to them. It tired him out like nothing else.

Talking to Tony out on the boat hadn’t been too painful, but talking to the rest of the team wasn’t quite as easy. He still wasn’t completely himself anymore around them, and they treated him different as well. The words just didn’t flow as easily with everyone else. Not like with Tony.

Normally he would say a few sentences throughout the day and when the night came Tony would tug him up onto the roof and they would talk and talk until the summer air was almost cool. They talked about everything. New ideas Tony had, scientific theories, space, the ocean, girls, celebrities – and on and on.

Then, right as Peter was about to nod off, Tony would turn to him and say, “So how was Peter’s day today?”

And Peter would let him know how he was feeling. He let it out to Tony, told him his worries and fears and thoughts. Tony was a great listener – he let Peter talk.

This night had been like the others. Peter felt better after talking to Tony. It was very late now – past one in the morning. Peter was beginning to nod off.

“Come on kiddo,” Tony shook his shoulder. “We’ll go to bed.”

Peter fluttered his eyelids sleepily. “Right.”

“You’re a good kid, Peter.”

“Hmmm.”

“Yeah?”

Peter sighed and opened his eyes. “What?”

“I said you’re a good kid. The best.”

“Oh,” Peter looked away. “Thanks.”

“I mean it,” Tony ruffled his hair.

Peter shrugged. “I know you do.”

He really did know that Tony meant it, but that didn’t exactly mean it was true. Because Peter was beginning to realize that he might not be as good as Tony thought.

Queens was falling apart. Peter watched the news, he had a television in his room. Crime had gone through the roof, and Peter couldn’t do anything about it. Even if he felt like he could, Tony would never let him go out as Spiderman at this point. He didn’t even know if he wanted to be Spiderman anymore.

He didn’t know what he wanted to be at all.

It was when he heard Clint and Natasha talking one evening that he realized he wasn’t a good person at all. Everyone kinda forgot how good his hearing was sometimes.

“We’ve gotta get Stark on top of this,” said Natasha seriously, in a low voice. “They want something with Peter – and they’ve had all this time to plan something big. Something that will surprise us. It’s _Hydra_ , Clint.”

“I don’t know what else to tell him,” Clint answered back. “None of do. Honestly, I don’t know what to do myself. Peter is practically defenseless, and they’re not just gonna come back for him – it’s gonna be for all of us –”

“What’s going to happen if something happens to us?” she cut in, voice fearful. “What will happen to the kid?”

Clint sighed. “Like I said, he’s defenseless. I just don’t know –“

Peter walked frantically away at that point, his stomach sick.

 _‘I’m going to get them all killed,’_ He thought to himself. _‘I’ve abandoned Queens and now Richard is going to come back for me and kill all of my friends. I’m weak. I’m like a sitting duck.’_

He reached the living room and reeled into a wall, almost sliding down it in panic.

_You’re going to lose everything if you don’t get it together._

_You’re going to lose everything._

God, but what could he do? He couldn’t just, fix himself overnight. He’d been trying just to speak for a month! There wasn’t just an on switch to this kind of stuff.

Tony wouldn’t help him fix it in time. He’d make him take everything slow, go at his own pace. But they didn’t have _time_ for that. People were dying in New York today, Richard could come today, he could lose everything today.

Gosh.

Mindlessly, he felt his legs taking him somewhere. He knew what he needed to do. He should have done it a long time ago. It just had to be done – it was essential.

In minutes he found himself outside of Steve Roger’s door. He gave a tentative knock.

“Peter?” Steve greeted with a confused expression. “Um – everything okay?”

Peter knew why he was confused. He’d never sought Steve out for anything. They’d never even had much of a conversation just the two of them. They butted heads. They were too similar. But he needed him at this point.

“Um –“ Peter swallowed. “Not – not really?”

Steve looked a little nervous. He held a hand out. “Do you need to sit down? Do you need Tony?”

Peter shook his head quickly. “No – no not – not Tony. Not now. I need your help. Just you.”

“Oh,” His voice was surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. Um –“ He breathed in deep. “I’m – I’m – I’m weak, Steve. I’m weak.”

Steve opened the door fully at this point. Peter shuffled his feet. “What are you talking about, Peter?”

Peter bit his lip and tried to get out what he was thinking because he really did need help and Steve was the only one that was going to push him. He was the only one that wouldn’t treat him like a child and wouldn’t be afraid to hurt him.

“I’m weak, and it’s – it’s hurting people. I need you – you to help me be strong again.”

There was a beat of silence. Steve’s face was unreadable.

“Will you help me?” Peter’s voice was almost desperate.

A small smile came on Steve’s face. He placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder and said confidently, “You bet, kid.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the comments. Please continue letting me know what you think! I've been loving writing this story!

_“Hey kid,” Tony said softly, peeking his head through Peter’s bedroom door. “You’re gonna be late.”_

_His words were met with an almost irritated groan. He pushed his way inside further with curiosity. Peter was never irritated with him –_

_“You uh –“ He felt awkward, not exactly knowing what to do. “You all right?”_

_Peter sighed and rolled over, still wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. The kid liked a million blankets on him when he slept, but it always looked like he was suffocating. Sometimes Tony worried that he would._

_He sniffled, clogged. “I’ve been better.”_

_Tony lowered himself uncertainly onto the side of Peter’s bed. The kid’s pale skin was a stark contrast against the dark bedsheets. His bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat. Tony carefully placed his hand there._

_“Wow, you actually feel pretty warm –“_

_“I’m cold.”_

_“Okay,” Tony brushed some of his hair back. “So – you’re sick?”_

_Peter’s eyes met Tony’s from the safety of his covers. “Um, I guess so? I’ll be fine, I’ll be up in a second.”_

_“No, no – you need to rest just –“ Tony looked around. “What am I supposed to do? What do you need?”_

_A small chuckle came from Peter’s mouth. He pushed himself up a little more. “Have you never taken care of a sick person before?”_

_Tony laughed. “Kid, I can’t even take care of myself on good days.”_

_Peter grinned. “This is true. You don’t even eat until nine at night usually.”_

_“See? I’m terrible. Whoever let me have you is out of their mind.”_

_There was a pause. Peter gave a little cough. “I’m glad they let you have me,” he said quietly._

_Tony touched the side of the kid’s face fondly, feeling the abnormal heat there. His eyes were huge and full of some sort of adoration, even though Tony had no idea why anyone on this planet would adore him._

_It was too much. He needed to make a shitty comment. “You feel that in the room kid? That’s freaking cheese. You made the moment cheesy.”_

_Peter shrugged. “I’m sorry. Kinda.”_

_Tony rolled his eyes with a grin, trying to hide the flurry of foreign parental emotions inside._

*

“All right, so the question is – how does one corner Peter Parker?”

Richard Parker stood at the head of a long, sleek wooden table. The rims of his eyes were red with either lack of sleep or some other substance. He struggled with his poised demeanor, still managing to pull it off to those that didn’t know him well.

One man leaned back in his chair. “Easy question, Rich. How do we corner the Avenger’s bitch? So simple, right?”

There was mean laughter around the table. Richard frowned.

“All right.” Richard’s voice changed. It was cold now. Scary. “Anyone have anything fucking constructive?”

Silence met his words. There was a tangible fear in the room at his tone difference. “No?” Richard continued. “Nothing?”

More silence.

“Well,” Richard began in a strangely jovial voice. “Let me educate you fuckers.”

He flipped over a large white board and pulled out a red marker. “Let’s make this like school – easier for you all to understand,” Men shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “What does Peter Parker care about?”

Everyone looked at each other from their right to left. One man spoke up semi-nervously. “Um, Stark?”

“Good!” Richard emphasized in a sing-song voice. “ _Someone_ fucking knows something!”

He wrote in big red letters, ‘ _STARK’_

“Anything else?”

“He – he has those two friends. The big kid and frizzy girl?”

“Yup!” He wrote, _‘Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones’_

“The rest of the Avengers?”

“Stark’s assistant?”

“Stark’s girl?”

“His school?”

Richard was writing quickly. “Good ones, good, but we’re missing the big ticket here.”

There was shuffling. Richard tapped his foot impatiently. “No one can guess the right one?”

“Um –“ someone spoke up cautiously. “His city? Queens?”

“God _damn_ it! There you go!” Richard shouted so loudly that the man jumped. “Baby Peter loves Queens for some fucking reason. He thinks he’s its protector.”

“So – so we hurt Queens? Wouldn’t it be easier to just snatch one of those kids? They’re just –“

Richard slammed his fist on the whiteboard. The man jumped. “Wrong as usual Thompson, you fucker. You’re on some pretty thin ice with the boss aren’t ya?” Thompson blushed and wrung his hands. “I thought so – just checking. No it would not be easier to kidnap a child because then we would have to specifically lure him. That won’t work. Tony fucking Stark is on his case so much we’d never be able to squeeze that past him.”

“So we attack Queens?” someone asked. “Won’t that get the rest of the Avengers involved?”

Richard gestured with his marker. “Not if we don’t play it like idiots. We don’t attack it full on, we do it subtly.”

“So we raise the crime? I’ve seen the news, crime is already up in Queens –“

“Right you are, Stevens – we raise the crime. But we have to do it specifically. Specific enough so Peter will hear about it and come after the criminal. Like – a string of bank robberies. He’d go after that.”

Stevens shrugged his shoulders. “Or a serial killer.” He got several stares. “What? A slew of people getting murdered in his city. It’ll get him for sure.”

Some people nodded at the idea. Stevens looked up at Richard to see his reaction. He stood eerily still, his eyes swiveling back and forth. Several men gulped. They had suffered too much experience with the elder Parker. He was unpredictable. He was agonizingly bipolar. Some people had been shot by him in these meetings, just because their comment irritated him. It was why Hydra gave him a lot of power. He scared people shitless.

Richard licked his lips. “That’s – that’s –“ Stevens winced, bracing himself. “That’s fucking _genius_. A serial killer. He’ll go try to catch him. God, gold star Stevens. We’ll have the kid in no time.”

“I take it you’re going to take on playing the role, Parker?” asked Thompson, almost in awe of his madness. Richard shrugged.

“Anyone opposed to that?”

Silence.

“Perfect,” Richard practically bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’ll make an excellent serial killer.”

*

“You’re tiring out, Peter!” Cap’s voice rang off the walls in the gym. “Pick it up, pick it up! You tire during hand to hand, you get sloppy!”

Peter’s forehead shone with sweat. He wore a thin t-shirt and sport shorts. He was trying desperately just to block all of Steve’s punches, not having enough skill to land one of his own.

A third hit got Peter right in the jaw, sending him flying back to the ground. He twisted in midair and landed on his stomach. Cap stood, watching Peter groan and push himself up on his elbows.

“Don’t stay down, Parker. Get up.”

Peter spit blood onto the floor and rubbed his mouth. He squeezed his eyes tight.

Steve spoke louder. “That’s the third time I hit you in that spot. You’ve gotta learn from your mistakes better, block where you’ve been hit. And _get up!_ ”

Peter shook his head. “I – I can’t. I’m done.” He spit another wad of blood.

“You can’t be done. I’m a hydra agent, here to drag you off to some secret base.” Peter glanced up at Steve, expression annoyed. “You think he’s going to just let you be done?”

“Maybe he’ll just – just – just let me die,” said Peter, rolling his eyes.

Steve crouched down beside Peter. “No he won’t. He’ll take you to Nigeria or Pakistan or somewhere and torture you until you _actually_ go insane,” Peter shot him a wounded look. “Or he’ll raid the tower, catch Tony when he’s not in one of his suits and kill him. He’ll _kill_ him. Tony doesn’t have any formal training, he could take him down two seconds flat –“

“You’re – you’re an asshole,” Peter griped, pushing himself up. He stood on his feet unsteadily and raised his fists. “Let’s go.”

Steve stroke out, which Peter blocked. Through punches Steve said, “I’m probably going to knock you down again. Will you get back up this time?”

A trail of blood dripped down Peter’s chin as he concentrated. “Yes.”

*

A few days later, Peter held a bundle of blankets in his arms as he rushed up to Tony. “Do – do you have – have time to go up on – on the roof tonight?”

Tony held his cell phone between his ear and shoulder so he could reach out and ruffle Peter’s hair. “Sure, kiddie. Just give me a minute?”

Peter nodded and Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter’s forehead. “What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the already fading bruise there.

“Nothing,” said Peter passively, eyes trying to look at his own forehead. “It – it doesn’t hurt. I forget how – how I got it.”

“Uh huh,” Tony didn’t sound convinced. “No, no, no, I’m still here.” He said into the phone. “Would ya chill for a second?”

Peter smiled slightly. “I’ll be upstairs.”

He took the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to move more. He thought of the endless texts that laid unanswered from Ned and Michelle, Steve’s rigorous training, Queen’s crime rate, and Tony’s ability to always notice what was going on with him.

Right now he just needed to think about nothing for a moment.

That, and he was super exhausted. Steve punched _hard._

“I’ll say this – you sure can take a punch, Pete,” Cap had said earlier that day. Peter sighed.

“Um – thanks?” He moved back and forth between his feet, keeping fists raised up at eye level. It didn’t matter how hard he concentrated – Steve was always faster.

“All right, pause,” Steve held up a hand. “Do four hundred push-ups, then I’m gonna have you stand on a pole like the karate kid. Your balance is terrible.

“Four _hundred?”_

“You’re right. You’re enhanced. Make it five hundred.”

“Steve –“

Cap raised his eyebrows. “Steve what? You want me to tell you we’re done? You want me to baby you? I’m not gonna baby you, Peter. I’m not Tony. You wanna be strong, you grow up. Because it’s not just physical strength you need, it’s mental too. You really, really need some mental strength, kid.”

The comment hit Peter hard. “Well, don’t – don’t hold back, Steve.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re a – a jerk.”

Steve shrugged. “You angry? Let it out through some push-ups.”

And Peter did. Sitting up there on the roof in the cool air, his arms still shook from the previous effort. He heard Tony come up the stairs behind him.

“Sorry, kiddo. I was on the phone with – well, it doesn’t matter.” He sat beside Peter. “Have a good day? Did you see Ned and Michelle?”

Peter shook his head. “Not today. Not – not quite ready yet.”

“That’s all right,” Tony placed a hand on his back. “Just wait until you’re ready.”

For some reason, Tony’s comment rubbed him the wrong way. He was tired of waiting around for everything. He was tired of being a ticking time bomb. He was tired of everyone just letting him do what he wanted. It was like being stagnant.

Tony must have sensed Peter’s discomfort. He looked a little worried now. “You feel okay today?”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah,”

“You need to talk about anything?”

“Not – not – not – ugh,” Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I can’t – can’t talk –“

Tony put a hand on his back. “It’s all right, you’re doing fine,”

But he wasn’t fine. If everyone just kept telling him he was fine all the time would he ever really get better?

_I’m not going to baby you, Peter._

Good. Thank god for Steve, because he didn’t need to be babied anymore. He needed to be strong, grow up. He’d basically gone completely soft since May had died and everyone was suffering the consequences.

“Peter?”

Tony’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Peter looked up at him. It was crazy, but he’d never felt cared about by anyone like Tony cared for him. Of course Ben and May were the exceptions, but they were the only ones. And for a second, Peter wished he could curl up, be a little kid, and let Tony take care of all his problems.

“Talk to me, kiddo. I don’t care if you stutter.”

Peter shook his head. “I – I’m fine. I kinda just wanna be quiet, if that’s okay.”

Tony nodded, face full of concern. He looked ready to swoop in and fix everything, which he wished was possible. But it wasn't. Not anymore. Peter needed to figure some things out himself. 

But, maybe being babied for just a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt…

He gave in to the temptation and said, “Could we – could we,” He turned. “Could we hug though?”

It took half a second for Tony to register what he’d said before he swept Peter up, holding him tight. It was warm and safe, almost like everything was going to be all right. It was like when May had hugged him – Peter could practically feel her love seeping through when she did.

“You just needed a hug?” Tony asked, still clutching.

Peter nodded softly. “Yeah – sometimes I do.”

*

Peter dreamed restlessly. He was curled under warm blankets, and his sleep was deep. The door to the bedroom creaked open slowly, but Peter was too out to notice. A hand grabbed his upper arm roughly.

He jolted up. “What?!” The hand still grasped his arm. Instant panic rose. “Who – _Steve?”_

There he was, irritating Peter as usual. Steve Rogers stood by his bed, holding him with a strong hand, fully dressed in training gear. Peter rubbed his eyes with the hand he was able to use.

“Dude, what the hell. You scared me!”

Steve just pulled harder, until Peter was practically falling out of bed.

“Hey! The hell!” He tried to wrench himself free. “Let me go! Are you crazy?”

Steve turned and faced Peter, looking serious. “No, I’m not. I’m kidnapping you. Find a way to save yourself.”

Peter’s mouth fell open.

Aw, shit.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'alls. As always, thanks for the comments. I've been getting quite a few about Steve being annoying, which, yeah he is kinda being annoying. But I'm not writing him that way cause I hate him or anything, it's just really how I'd think he would react. From all the movies I've seen, Steve is very serious when it comes to the team and training. He is the boss and wants everyone to be ready for anything. That's what I've noticed anyways. I'm writing him how I feel he would try and help Peter. By being tough with Peter. Whether that, or Tony's way of being nice and gentle, is the right way to go is up to you ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Peter and Steve faced each other in the darkened room. Peter’s chest rose and fell heavily with anxiety.

“What do you mean you’re _kidnapping_ me?” Peter spat. “It’s like, two in the morning!”

“Exactly. You’re off your guard.” Steve continued pulling on Peter’s arm.

“Well, if I was getting kidnapped out of my room, I’d just call for Tony –“

“Yeah, no, don’t do that. Tony’s not around. It’s just me and you.”

Peter tried to pull himself free. “Damn it, Cap, let me go or I’m gonna _scream –_ “

Steve whirled around suddenly and grabbed Peter’s upper arms, nearly lifting him off the ground. Peter leaned his head back, nervous. It was all too familiar –

“Fine,” Steve whispered. “Scream. But then our training will be over, and you won’t have changed much. Or, you can take it like a man and try to escape by yourself. You would really scream for Tony when a kidnapper is in the house? What if Tony were killed –?”

Peter cut him off in a rage at the mention of Tony’s death once again by slamming his forehead into Steve’s jaw. Steve stumbled back, hand over his mouth. Peter took his chance and bolted out of his bedroom. Before he could fully exit the doorway, a hand grabbed around his ankle sending him sprawling. Peter flew out his hands, knowing how it felt to fall chin-first onto the ground.

Steve had him by the ankle and was dragging him backwards. Peter flipped over onto his back and tried to twist his legs from Steve’s grip. Panic began to settle in. He couldn’t get free. He wasn’t going to be able to get free –

“Breathe in deep, Pete. Don’t let your fear make you lose.”

Peter reached his arm back in an attempt to grab the doorframe. “How – how,” he gasped. “How am I supposed to breathe deep when you’re freaking _stronger_ than me –“

His legs kicked out desperately. He scratched his nails along the doorframe and attempted to stick the very ends of his fingertips there.

He let out an involuntary yelp when he was dragged further. Steve had both hands around Peter’s ankles. Something clicked in his brain. Huh. That meant Cap’s face was completely vulnerable – plus Peter had already gotten his face earlier so it was bound to be painful.

With as much speed as he could gather, he sat up straight with his elbow jutting out. He made the hard end of his elbow come in contact with the side of Steve’s jaw. A gasp came out when a sickening crack sounded around the room.

He’d broken Steve’s jaw.

_He freaking broke Captain America’s jaw._

Steve let go of his legs for a moment and Peter took it. He got up, practically leaping off the floor. Adrenaline instantly began to course through his body. Steve slumped against the ground, almost looking knocked out. Peter celebrated by jumping in between his legs.

“Hell yeah, take _that_ you freaking star-spangled asshole – oh shit!”

Peter turned and wrenched himself from the room when Steve shook his head and began getting up. He flew down the darkened hallway, head pounding. Heavy footsteps began struggling to follow closely behind. Peter snuck a glance to see how close Steve was. Damn it he was gaining –

By the time he reached the living room he realized, _why was he running?_ He’d just knocked Steve Rogers out! He could take him!

So he turned on his heel and stood straight, facing the hallway entrance. Raising his fists to eye level he prepared to take more hits and fight. He was going to stand his ground – he was tired of running –

Just as Steve was prepared to meet him, the living room light flicked on, illuminating the scene. The two whipped their heads around to find the source of the lighting change. Peter’s heart was racing.

Tony stood up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, his wide eyes flicking back and forth. Steve and Peter were both frozen, barely breathing. Peter felt himself switch as he slowly lowered his fists and turned towards Tony.

“What in the _hell_ is going on?” Tony said, a little too loudly. He was at Peter’s side in an instant, gripping his shoulders.

Peter’s mind raced, searching everywhere for an explanation – anything to explain why his fists had been up, why Steve’s jaw was freaking destroyed because _holy shit did his mouth look terrible._

“I – I think,” Peter gulped and stole a quick look at Steve. “I think I was – was having a nightmare.”

Tony gave him a searching look. “A nightmare?”

Steve nodded, rubbing his mouth. “He was. I heard him when I passed by his room.”

Tony squinted his eyes at Steve’s bruising. A small smile came on his face. “Kid clocked you pretty good huh?”

The words came out slightly muffled from Steve’s mouth. “Yeah,” He rolled his eyes. “I tried to wake him up. Shows what I get for being nice.”

Peter pursed his lips, trying not to smile because _he freaking got Steve in the jaw_. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said quietly.

Steve shrugged and Tony ruffled his hair. “You don’t have to be sorry, kiddie. Wanna come talk with me for a minute?”

Peter nodded. “Sure,” He let Tony wrap an arm around his shoulders and steer him away. Turning his head back to face Steve, he said, “Hope the jaw feels better, Rogers. Maybe try and stay on your side of the compound next time?”

Steve just shook his head, grinning in a lopsided way. His eyes lit up a little – almost like he was proud.

Tony chuckled. “Sassy as always, kid,”

Peter smirked.

*

_Tony was painfully awoken by the loudest scream he’d ever heard in his life. He flung himself out of bed, terrified at the very sudden and frightening noise._

_Two very distinct words rang out. “Help me!”_

_Help me?_

_Shit. That was Peter’s voice._

_Tony ripped himself from his bedroom and flew down the hallway. If someone was in that kid’s freaking room freaking hurting him there was gonna be some intense hell to pay –_

_“Peter!” Tony wrenched the door open and scanned his surroundings. “FRIDAY, lights!”_

_The room shone bright. There was Peter, sitting up straight with his head in his hands. He was shrieking so loud that it echoed off the walls._

_Tony felt panicked. “Peter! Peter!” He rushed over, sat on the bed, and tried to pry the kid’s hands from his face. “Hey, kiddie, you’re okay, you’re okay –“_

_Peter was rocking back and forth, inconsolable. He screeched, “I need help – help – someone –“_

_“I’m here, I’m here, hey,” He tried to look into Peter’s face but his eyes were screwed shut. “Peter, it’s me. It’s Tony.”_

_But Peter still didn’t stop. If anything, he didn’t seem to notice Tony there at all. His screaming got even worse, so much that it made Tony’s ears hurt._

_Tony ran a hand through his hair and used the other one to rub Peter’s arm. “Shit,” he said to himself. “What do I do?”_

_Peter had one of his arms in a vice and was clawing it until blood came. Tony grabbed his hand, trying frantically to stop him but the kid was too strong. He was too strong and he was out of it –_

_Tony hesitated before he did it because gosh he loved the kid and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. But he was scratching his own skin off – something had to be done –_

_He pulled his hand back and slapped Peter across the face._

_Peter shot back from Tony, eyes wide. His hand flew up to the cheek that had been slapped. “Hey, hey, hey –“ Tony held his hands out. “It’s just me, kiddo, just me –“_

_The kid was heaving, face red. “Tony?” He whispered. His hands shook like mad. “What – what –“_

_“Just me, kiddie –“_

_The kid seemed completely disoriented. “I – I need help, but –“_

_“Just look at me, Peter. What do you need help with? I’ll give you anything you need.”_

_Peter shook his head, as if he was trying to assemble his thoughts. “I – I don’t know, I was dreaming – I think I was trapped, I was stuck –“_

_The kid took a long shuddering breath. Tony rubbed a thumb over his smaller shoulder._

_“Gosh Tony, I think I’m really messed up.”_

*

_From: Ned Leeds 11:10 a.m: Dude, me and Michelle NEED to see you…_

Peter licked his lips nervously at the text message. Before he could type out a response, he was bombarded with more.

_From: Ned Leeds 11:10 a.m: We freaking miss you man_

_From: Ned Leeds 11:11 a.m: Like, what’s even going on? Let us help. Hope everything’s okay._

_From: Ned Leeds 11:11 a.m: Are you even gonna come back to school when summer’s over?_

Damn. School. How would he go back to school? It was out now that Tony had taken him in. Would he ever be able to go back? There was so much to think about. Since the attack, he’d kinda swept everything under the rug.

Like the fact that he hadn’t seen Ned and Michelle in nearly two months.

Tony had called them and given the lowdown on the situation when Michelle started calling Tony twenty times a day. Peter hadn’t been able to bring himself to text either of them back. They would make him talk.

But now, he was making himself get over that. It was time to get back to life.

So he unlocked his phone screen and typed, _To: Ned Leeds 11:15 a.m: I miss you guys too, man. So sorry. Can you come by today?_

Within that minute, a call came chiming in from Ned. Peter raised his eyebrows in amusement, imagining how excited his friend must have been to finally get a reply.

He touched the green accept button. “Hey man,” His voice squeaked a little. “What’s up?”

Ned’s voice was fast and thrilled. “Oh my gosh! Peter! Dude!”

“ _Peter!”_ There was Michelle.

“Oh yeah, you’re on speaker with Michelle. Is that cool?”

“Of course it’s cool. It’s _me.”_

“Well maybe he just wants to talk to his guy in the chair.”

“Yeah, right.”

“ _Guys,”_ Peter cut them off with a laugh. “It’s – it’s – it’s good to talk to – to both of you. I’m sorry –“

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Michelle interrupted, assertive as ever. “There’s nothing to be –“

“Sorry for,” Peter finished. “Yeah, I’ve – I’ve gotten that – that a lot.”

There was a beat. “So – can we really come by?” Ned asked.

Peter took in a deep breath. “Yeah – yeah, please do. We – we can watch movies or – or –“

“Anything,” Michelle commented. “We’re good with anything, Peter.”

He grinned to himself. “Cool. I’ll see – see you guys soon.” He paused. Maybe he should prepare them. “Just – just warning you. I’m not – not really the – the same.”

“Peter –“

“I – I kinda – kinda have a – a stutter now –“

“Damn it, Peter,” said Michelle. Peter could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Why the _fuck_ would that matter to us?”

*

They came in the evening. Peter skitted around the kitchen waiting for them, half nervous, half eager. He’d let Tony know so FRIDAY could let them in. Gosh he hoped it would be all right, that they were still his friends, that –

“Peter!!!”

Peter whipped around to see Michelle running at him. He grinned wide and rushed at her, stepping a steadying foot back as she flung herself on him in a hug. He hugged her back tightly, burying his head in her shoulder. She’d never shown him much affection before. They’d become best friends after everything with the Vulture, but not like this. It was nice.

She pulled back and look into his face. Ned’s hand was on his shoulder, making Peter turn and hug him fiercely as well. They clapped each other on the back. Ned was practically bouncing with joy.

“We missed you _so_ much, man –“

Michelle nodded. “And we’re here for you –“

“You don’t even have to talk to us about anything,”

“Yeah! We can just watch TV or build legos, whatever –“

“Whatever you need, Peter,”

Peter gave them a small smile and softly gave his thanks. There wasn’t really much to express how thankful he was – but hopefully it showed on his face. It was amazing to see them, so happy and so _normal._ He realized that some of his old life really could stay. He could keep Ned and Michelle. He could keep this little piece of Queens that so defined him.

They watched James Bond movies practically all night. And they kept their promise – Peter didn’t have to talk about anything. He figured someday he’d tell them himself, but not today. It was nice to just be together like before, and pretend like nothing had changed.

Tony came tiptoeing in the living room around one in the morning. He caught Peter’s eye when he saw him still awake, but Ned and Michelle passed out on armrests. Peter shot him a grin.

“Hey bud,” Tony whispered, striding over. “Good night?”

Peter nodded. “Good night.”

“Everything go okay?”

“Yeah. I’m happy I saw them.”

Tony pushed Peter’s hair from his face. “That’s good, kiddo. Need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“All right. Well I’m gonna head to bed. I sure love you, kid.”

Peter looked up at the man, beaming. “Love you too.”

*

Happy kindly took Ned and Michelle home, which they thanked him profusely for. The man shrugged it off, saying he didn’t mind – which Peter knew was pretty true. Happy had developed quite the obvious soft spot for Peter, and it having Ned and Michelle over made him happy, he’d do anything to help.

Right as he was about to change for bed, a text pinged.

_From: Steve/Asshole Rogers 2:34 a.m: Are your little friends gone? We didn’t train today._

Peter rolled his eyes. _To: Steve/Asshole Rogers 2:34 a.m: Do you own a clock?_

_From: Steve/Asshole Rogers 2:35 a.m: Suit up and meet me in the gym ASAP_

Peter raised his eyebrows. Suit up? They hadn’t fought like that before –

He rushed to his bedroom and pulled out the case containing his Spider-man suit. His heart fluttered with an unknown emotion. Anticipation? Anxiety? Excitement? It was hard to tell. He hadn’t worn the suit in so long –

A thick layer of dust coated the top of the case. Peter brushed it off, cleaning it, scraping every trace away. The striking red suit lay inside. Peter thumbed the fabric carefully and chewed on his lip. Gosh, he was really going to put it back on.

Steve sat on one of the benches in the training room. Peter silently stepped inside, heart beating. Steve quirked up the side of his mouth when he entered.

“So you listened,” he said, standing up. Peter nodded. “I thought we could do the real deal this time. Captain America versus Spider-man. Really show me what you got.”

Peter raised his eyebrows at the shield that laid on the floor. All their training so far had just been sparring, hand to hand, technique. He’d been doing pull-ups and standing on balance beams for hours. It had never been superhero against superhero.

“Right,” Peter breathed. “Uh, cool – cool, right –“

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You afraid?”

Peter took a huge breath and shook his head slightly. Steve laughed a little and it struck a chord of annoyance in Peter. Cap was _trying_ to scare him. He was trying to catch him off his guard. He was stronger and he knew it. He had more training. He was better –

Instantly, Peter shook the negative thoughts from his head. Cap _wasn’t_ better than him! He’d broken the man’s face earlier! He could do this. Damn, he was Spider-man! He could freaking do anything.

“Yeah,” Peter said, rolling his shoulders back. He straightened up and tried to fake some confidence. Surprisingly, faking it actually gave him some. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Steve looked a little impressed and raised his fists. Peter held up a hand.

“Wait.”

Cap lowered his hands a little. “Hm?”

“You ever seen The Karate Kid?”

“Um – some of it I think?”

Peter shrugged. “I get it, you’re really old,” He smirked. Being snarky helped him somehow. “But, do you remember that part where the kid’s at the karate match or something and that song is playing?”

Steve had lowered his arms all the way now. “Are you trying to distract me?”

Peter bounced up and down on his feet. “No, I’m being serious! You know that song when he’s fighting – it’s like – _you’re the best, around, nothing’s gonna ever blah blah blah –_ I don’t really know it all –“

“You’re losing me, here,”

“Can we play that song while we’re fighting?” He pulled out his phone and flicked through. “I’ve got it in my music –“

Steve burst out laughing, placing his hands on his things and nearly doubling over. Peter smiled, a little taken aback. He hadn’t heard Steve laugh in a while –

“Sure,” said Steve, flinging his arms up. “Why not?”

“Awesome,” Peter rushed over to the speaker and plugged his phone in. The song began playing all around the room. He turned back to Steve. “ _Hell_ yeah. This song’s the _shit._ I’m so ready to kick your ass now.”

Steve placed a hand over his eyes and shook silently with more laughter. “I’m not even going to comment on your language.”

“You kinda just did.” Peter tapped his foot to the music. “Doesn’t this song just get you pumped?”

Steve got in a fighting stance again and Peter copied him. “I’m proud of you, Pete,” He said.

Peter felt his heart jump a little. “You are? We haven’t even started yet.”

“True. But for the past few minutes, you haven’t stuttered once.”

Peter’s lips parted with a little pop of surprise. He wracked his brain and realized that Steve was right. He hadn’t been stuttering. A swooping feeling came to his stomach. He was really going to be okay – he could be strong –

And after knocking Steve flat on his back thirty minutes in (yeah, it took a little while but whatever), with the awesome Karate Kid song playing in the background, he started to see that could really be a reality.

*

A newspaper sat neatly on his nightstand when Peter woke up the next morning. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and reached for it, grip fumbling. He was insanely sore from the two in the morning match.

Huge block letters covered the top of the page. They spelled: _SERIAL KILLER IN QUEENS CLAIMS FOURTH VICTIM: NOW NAMED THE SCHOOL-GIRL KILLER_

Peter sat straight up in bed and held the paper close to his face, frantically reading all of the information. A serial killer? In Queens? It looked like he was targeting teenage girls as they came home from school. His heart pounded at the thought of Michelle – lively, passionate Michelle. Her life snuffed out by some sicko. It made him sick. His eyes flicked up and noticed a bright sticky note at the top of the page.

_Pete,_

_You showed that you can handle quite a bit._

_Thought you should know what’s going on in Queens._

_Looks like they need Spiderman…_

_-Steve_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, y'all. 
> 
> It's about to get real.

_The girl that frantically ran down the sidewalk was beautiful. The terror on her face twisted her features, however. She quickened her pace, looking over her shoulder with wild eyes. Peter had never seen someone so scared._

_But this girl was usually never scared. She was collected and confident and tough. He hadn’t yet seen her like this before. It made him want to find whoever was frightening her and beat them to hell._

_She ducked into an alleyway and it was then that Peter saw her face. It was thin and streaked with tears. Peter tried to reach out to her._

_“Michelle,” he whispered._

_She gasped out heaving breaths from her spot against the brick walls. From behind, Peter could hear heavy footsteps coming closer. He turned to see a man step out of the shadows. Goosebumps pricked Peter’s skin when he noticed the absence of the man’s face._

_“P-please,” wept Michelle, pushing herself against the wall. The faceless man stepped right through Peter and brandished a rusty knife. He placed his hand in Michelle’s hair. “Please – please don’t – god,”_

_Peter tried to rush to her aid, but it was as if he was made of air. He couldn’t grab her arm, pull her away, save her –_

_He was forced to watch, helpless, as she was grabbed by the neck and brutally stabbed in the stomach. Over and over again. Blood rose up in her lips as she screamed. She was in agony, she was hurting, she was so afraid._

_Peter watched as her life went to waste. All her potential, all the happiness she brought everyone. Gone. Snuffed out._

“NO!”

Peter sat straight up, hands over his mouth. “No, no, no –“

He looked wildly around the room, coming back to himself, heart pounding.

God, he’d just been dreaming.

Right?

Peter blinked and thought _Michelle_ desperately. What she all right?

He fumbled with his phone and squinted at the bright screen. He had to know – had to check –

The phone rang in his ear. He waited with nervous, impatient breaths.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

God, she couldn’t be –

“Peter?” came Michelle’s garbled voice through the speaker. “That you?”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. “Michelle,”

“Dude, it’s four in the morning –“

“I – I know, I just wanted to call –“

“Is everything okay?” She sounded more alert now.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to talk? Or facetime?”

Peter smiled. “No, I just – I had a dream.”

There was a pause. “A dream? Like, a bad one?”

Peter swallowed, unable to get the image of Michelle’s stabbing from his mind. “Yeah, it was – of you.”

They sat in silence for a moment. “Peter –“

“That serial killer,” Peter interrupted. “You’ve heard of that serial killer? The one that gets girls after school?”

Michelle’s voice was quiet. “Yeah, of course. Everyone’s talking about him.”

“Right.”

“So you dreamed that I got caught by the killer?”

“Well –“

“Peter, you don’t need to worry about me,” Michelle stated quickly. “We’re not even back in school yet for another three weeks. That guy’s been getting girls that go to those year round schools in the run down part of Queens. I’m gonna be fine.”

“But you never know – what if he moves places –“

“I’m going to be fine.” Her voice was firm, final. “Of all the things in the world you need to worry about, I’m not one of them.”

“You’re my friend,” Peter retorted. “Just – can you not wander around by yourself for a while? Until they catch this guy?”

“Well –“

“ _Please_ Michelle.”

“I’ll – I’ll try, Peter. Just don’t worry, okay? Focus on you for right now.”

Peter sighed. “I’m sick of focusing on myself.”

“That’s rich, because you never do. Now _goodnight,_ Peter. I was sleeping.”

“Right,” Peter didn’t feel much better at all. “Night MJ.”

*

“Hey, bud,”

Peter looked up from his laptop and grinned. “Tony! You’re back!”

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair fondly. “I know, I know, I’m neglectful to my kid. Sorry I’ve been out so much, Pete.”

Peter shrugged. It was true, Tony had been working a ton, but it wasn’t bothering Peter too much. He knew Tony was just coordinating different things with SHIELD, plus, well, he _was_ Tony Stark. He was bound to be busy. Besides, him being out made it easier for Peter to train and be Spiderman.

Because, oh yeah, he’d been going out as Spiderman for the past three nights.

Whoops.

In his old costume of course. His homemade one. Because being tracked right now, yeah, not exactly the ideal.

“It’s fine. Honest. I’ve had plenty of people to keep me company.”

Tony titled his head, considering Peter for a moment. “Say something else.”

Peter gave Tony a funny look. “Something else?”

“Say your favorite animal.”

“A shark. No, a giraffe. _No_ , one of those little rodents – what are they called? Sugar glider! Those are so cute – wait why am I doing this?”

Tony’s face brightened. “Your speech. Your sentences – they sound _so much_ better!”

Peter started. Oh. Right. “Oh, really? You think?”

“Well, yeah! You didn’t stutter at all just now!”

Peter beamed. He was kinda proud of himself, even if he didn’t like to admit it. He had been able to train even harder with Steve now, he hardly stuttered, and he was kicking ass as Spiderman looking for the school-girl killer.

He shrugged. “No big. I guess I’m just – getting better.”

Tony looked completely thrilled and it loosened a strain in Peter’s heart. He hated it when Tony had to be stressed over him.

“Course you are, kiddie,” Tony reached out and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Wanna go down and get some dinner at the docks? You can pick anywhere you’d like.”

Peter tilted his head. They’d gone down to the docks all the time before the adoption news had been outed. It was almost certain they would get sighted if they went now.

“Um – won’t the press find us?”

Tony stopped for a moment. “Oh. Right. Goddamn.” He gave a shaky grin. “I guess you and I haven’t gone out in public since everything went down, huh? You’ve just been holed up in here.”

Peter nodded. It was true. He’d gone to Ned’s house under Happy’s close watch, but that was it. He’d basically been an absolute homebody lately.

“Well, it’s all right. It might be too soon for you,” Tony patted Peter’s knee. “We can just do something here –“

“No,” Peter answered suddenly. Tony blinked. “No, it’s fine. I wanna go. I’m hungry and we’ve got no food here.”

Tony looked a little uncertain but Peter was determined. God, he hated the press and wanted to avoid them at all costs. But it was time. Just like it was time to talk and train and be with his friends and go out as Spiderman. You can’t put life on hold.

He had after May. He’d put his life on hold. He’d just sat around, waiting for it to get better, waiting for Tony to fix everything. Waiting for Tony to make him happy. But it hadn’t really worked. He couldn’t just expect other people to make him happy, he’d have to do that on his own.

“You sure kiddo?”

“Totally,” Peter sat up a little straighter. “Let’s go.”

*

“I’m telling you, I’ve been all over the city,” Peter gasped between breaths later that evening. He was in the gym with Steve, doing his best to block punches. “I’ve talked to my whole homeless network, all my gang buddies. There’s _no_ trace of this guy. He’s like a freaking magician, disappearing everywhere and shit –“

“Watch that mouth, kid,” chided Steve while throwing a hit at Peter’s face, which he dodged easily. Steve grinned. “Nice. You need to track his patterns. Find out where he’s gonna be at what times.”

“I’ve tried that.”

“You’ve tried tracking his patterns?”

Peter quickly wiped a bead of sweat. “Well, no – not really. I’ll try.”

“You’re a smart kid. Really, you are. You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so. School starts in just a few weeks. I’ve gotta get him before – well –“

Steve paused for a moment. “Before what?”

“Um –“

“Before that little friend of yours is back in school?”

Peter gulped and nearly whispered. “Yeah.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and kept his face impassive. “Well, that makes it personal. You’ll find him a lot faster that way.”

“You – you think?”

“Yeah, Pete. I think you’re going to be successful with this one.”

*

Tony swiped aimlessly through the tabloids and chattered with one of his managers, trying to get the press under control. He and Peter had spent all of twenty minutes at dinner before they were completely engulfed in camera flashes and questions. Happy had been at their side, taking care of things as always, but it still worried Tony for Peter.

The kid, however, had surprisingly taken everything in stride.

He’d grinned at the cameras with his heart-melting smile. He even answered a few questions, all while staying glued to Tony’s side.

It had to happen sometime, Tony had told himself. He just didn’t expect everything to go so well –

He expected Peter to panic. But he hadn’t. He’d been sweet and calm and happy –

Tony wondered what had changed. He wondered what he’d missed when it came to the kid. He’d been away a lot for the last few weeks, so he had been bound to miss something. But a complete turn around with Peter? That wasn’t exactly expected.

It almost hurt him a little. Not that Peter was doing better – that was great. But maybe that he hadn’t been – _included_ – in the process. Maybe he had, he didn’t know. Or maybe it was all a front Peter was putting on, trying to be tough.

Articles about the two popped up everywhere, but they were relatively tame. It just seemed like people were excited to finally see them out in public.

_TONY STARK AND ADOPTEE: SPENDING SOME TIME AS A FAMILY_

_MEET ADORABLE PETER PARKER: TONY STARK’S ORPHAN_

_PETER PARKER DAZZLES CAMERAS_

_PETER PARKER: MORE LIKE HIS ADOPTED DAD THAN YOU’D THINK_

_THERE’S A NEW STARK RISING – AND YOU’RE GONNA LOVE HIM_

Tony smiled slightly at the headlines. Well, at least they were nice. They seemed to favor a certain picture of the two. Tony had an arm wrapped tightly around Peter’s shoulders. The Stark wore an uneasy, yet fond towards Peter, look on his face – while Peter had a sparkle in his eyes, leaned into Tony’s arm and had a peace sign shot up at the cameras.

Gosh this kid.

He hung up with the manager when it seemed like there wasn’t much to worry about, but continued scrolling. It was almost enjoyable to read how fond everyone was of Peter. Hopefully it would stay that way for a while.

Then a story a bit further down the line caught Tony’s eye with a panicked stab.

His heart stopped. His brain seemed to freeze.

It was about Peter. But it wasn’t about Peter. At least, not the real him.

It was Spiderman.

_SPIDERMAN RETURNS HOME: SAVES WOMAN FROM APARTMENT FIRE_

What?

_What?_

Tony pushed himself away from the computer in a daze, trying to catch his breath. It couldn’t be true. It just _couldn’t._

But there it was, right there. Spiderman, clad in his old costume, swinging around.

Oh god, his old costume.

The kid was out in the thick of things wearing his pajamas?!

He backed out of his office with a flurry of emotions swirling inside. Turning sharply he rushed up to the kid’s room where he said he’d be Skyping with Ned and Michelle.

“Peter?!” Tony cried as he burst through the door. The room was completely empty, bed neatly made. “Peter? _Peter!”_ He whirled around, checking the bathroom, the closet, out the window. Panic rose. He placed his hands on the top of his head, breathing deeply.

“There’s no way,” Tony whispered to himself. “He went out? How – how – Richard’s out there –“

He looked all around the room, flinging open drawers and dressers – looking for the old suit, trying to see if he really had taken it –

Then a familiar handwriting caught his eye.

He knew that handwriting because he’d practically studied it at one point. That handwriting had sent him a letter, a letter that he’d read over and over after the fiasco with the accords –

Steve’s handwriting.

Why would Steve be writing Peter anything? Peter didn’t exactly like Steve –

He picked up the note with a shaking hand. His panic changed to icy, murderous fury as he read the slanted letters.

_Pete,_

_You showed that you can handle quite a bit._

_Thought you should know what’s going on in Queens._

_Looks like they need Spiderman…_

_-Steve_

It was attached to a newspaper. A newspaper talking all about that new serial killer targeting Queens.

Tony’s hand shook harder, but this time with rage. Gosh he was going to kill him. _He was going to kill him_.

Steve had told _his kid_ to go after a serial killer while in his pajamas.

His newly sixteen year old kid.

Fucking. Steve.

*

Peter excitedly swung through the city, latching from building to building, propelling himself into the air. It had felt so good to be going out again, helping people, stopping crime.

And now he finally had a lead on his number one criminal.

He hadn’t had any leads all week. He’d been out in drizzling rain, asking everyone, searching everywhere. But no one had caught a whiff of the guy. He had done some good along the way, stopping a gas station robbery, retrieving an old lady’s purse. He’d even helped out with an apartment fire the other day. But it was the killer he was after – the man that was ruining lives.

Tonight was the night that ended.

A fairly experienced car thief had agreed to give him information if Peter didn’t leave him webbed for over two hours. He’d agreed and learned that the school-girl killer was planning another murder that night. The car thief had known because he had done business with the serial killer earlier in the day.

So Peter had sped off to the warehouse the killer supposedly was going to use – hoping it wasn’t just a hunch – hoping he’d take this guy out.

Hoping – but also not at the same time.

He was scared – scared to actually meet a serial killer, scared of what the guy would be like. There was something sickeningly terrifying about being around such evil people. They made his insides squirm.

It was why his dad scared him so much.

But fear be damned. Because this guy was going to rape and murder a girl tonight. Some girl – some Michelle – was going to die a hideous death. Her parents would never be the same, her friends would cry. And Peter could stop all of that from happening by just being a little brave –

So when he got to the warehouse, he walked in without looking back.

It was dingy inside, with droplets of water leaking from the ceiling. Peter squatted down, practically crawling and observed his surroundings. The warehouse was huge, stretching down and down. At the very end of the structure there was a glowing yellow lightbulb.

Peter crept closer, wishing he had Karen his give him details. He tuned in with his hearing, noticing two heartbeats in the place with him, and someone heavily breathing in what sounded like a panic. The other person seemed to hardly breathe at all.

As he stepped closer he noticed a petite, hunched figure laying bathed in the light. He rushed at the girl, who had long black hair and pale skin. Her arms here wrapped around her middle and she seemed to be in shock. Peter thought she looked about fourteen.

“Miss,” he whispered, getting closer. Her head whipped up as she glanced around frantically. Peter guessed she couldn’t see much past her little bubble created by the lightbulb.

“Wh-wh-what –“ she nearly wept, shaking. “Who – who’s there, god, please help me –“

Peter came closer and stepped into the light. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. “ _Spiderman,”_

“In the flesh,” said Peter, kneeling down beside her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Don’t worry, don’t cry – you’re going to be fine –“

She shook her head and pointed out into the shadows. “N-n-no, Spiderman. He’s in here. With – with us somewhere. He’s _here –“_

Peter nodded and glanced around, well aware of this fact as he clearly heard two heartbeats still. “I know. But I’m here too. I’ll get you out of here, all right?”

Then he stood and turned around, his back to the girl, defending her – protecting her.

“I know you’re in here,” he called loudly throughout the shadows. “I can hear you. Show yourself so we can have a proper fight.”

Somewhere in the darkness Peter heard a soft, almost unheard, cackle. It made the hairs stick up on the back of his neck.

A shadow moved. Peter looked at it quickly, but it made its way across the room in a flash, almost jolting around.

“Show yourself!” Peter cried again. He sounded a little less confident this time.

Footsteps began to dramatically echo closer to the two teenagers in the circle of light, forcing Peter to ignore a growing pic of terror rising in his stomach.

All right – so he was going to show himself. Well, it wasn’t like Peter hadn’t asked for it.

The pit in his stomach intensified. Shivers went up and down his spine. He usually didn’t feel _this afraid –_ not unless – unless –

Something was really wrong.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going down for real...
> 
> Please comment, y'all. I really love to know what you think.
> 
> Enojy!!!
> 
> Song: It’s Quiet Uptown from Hamilton. Maybe give it a listen!

_“There are moments that the words don’t reach – there is suffering too terrible to name –“_

_The painfully familiar song with its chiming strings rang from Peter’s bedroom. It took Tony out of his thoughtful stupor about SI’s products and led him down the hall._

_“—and push away the unimaginable –“_

_He slid down the wall outside of Peter’s door and pulled out his phone. “FRIDAY,” he said quietly. “Show me Peter’s room,”_

_“—the Hamilton’s move uptown, and learn to live with the unimaginable –“_

_There sat Peter, curled against the glass in his favorite spot on the window seat. Cold March rains fell down outside, making the entire place feel cold and damp. It was something about pouring rainstorms for Peter. They struck some kind of sad chord inside the kid. Tony could usually find him in this spot on such nights, listening to his Hamilton song or others that he chose._

_“I spend hours in the garden,” Tony could see Peter whispering the words to the song with his head leaned over. “I walk alone to the store. And it’s quiet uptown – I never liked the quiet before –“_

_He watched Peter curl his legs up to his chest and wrap arms around knees. The rain pounded and Peter’s breath fogged the glass. Tony wanted nothing more than to comfort the kid, scoop him up, but he’d learned from experience that sometimes Peter just needed his time. He needed a cold night to be sad for a little while and things sometimes shaped up in the morning._

_Sometimes._

_“—you would like it uptown, it’s quiet uptown – he is going through the unimaginable –“_

*

“ROGERS!”

Tony’s earsplitting yell shrieked throughout the compound. It was past ten, so some people were sleeping already. Tony didn’t really give much of a shit at this point if he woke anyone up.

_“ROGERS!!!”_

“The hell, Tony?” muttered Clint sleepily, raising himself from the spot on the couch where he’d fallen asleep. “You yelling at someone?”

Tony searched around the living room like a madman. “Steve. You seen Steve anywhere?”

Clint rubbed his eyes. “I thought he went down to the gym, but that was hours ago. Y’all in some fit again?”

More heat rose in Tony’s face, but he didn’t have time to waste his anger on Clint right now. No – that was reserved for Cap.

Speaking of the asshole –

Steve came bounding up the stairs, looking panicked. His eyes shot over to Tony, who was obviously distressed and he rushed at him.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, worried. “Why are you --?”

Tony placed his hand over the ring on his finger and morphed it into the Iron Man arm. He clicked it into place and within seconds was right up in Steve’s face and –

_SMACK!_

He punched Steve right in the nose with all the strength he could muster. Steve stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs. Tony took his moment of weakness and tackled him, punching Steve over and over again with the metal arm.

“Hey!” Clint jumped off his feet.

Steve tried to claw Tony off of him. “—the hell, Stark! What are you doing --?”

“What am I doing?!” Tony screamed, pushing Steve backwards. “What the actual fuck are _you_ doing? What –“ Punch. “Is –“ Punch. “THIS?” He threw the newspaper with the sticky note on it.

Steve caught the paper in his hands and paled. “Now, look –“

Tony yelled and rushed at Steve again, whose nose was gushing. Clint ran forward and held Tony back, who struggled. The others were coming out from their rooms now, looking curious.

“Don’t give me _any_ fucking excuses – there’s none! There’s _no fucking excuses!_ ” He screeched so loud that it felt like his throat might bleed.

“Tony!” Clint shook him by the shoulders. “Calm down, man –“

“Fuck off, Barton –“

Steve’s hands were raised. “Listen to me, Tony, listen! Honestly, I was just trying to help –“

“ _Help?!_ ” Tony could hardly breathe. His vision was blurred.

“What the hell is going on?” Bruce Banner came sprinting up the stairs. He met eyes with Wanda and Natasha, who were standing by looking helpless. “Tony! What’s wrong?” He stepped over by Clint to aid in holding Tony back.

Tony almost crumpled with the overload of emotions he was experiencing. “He manipulated my kid! He fucking _manipulated my kid_! As if he hasn’t been manipulated enough! As if he hasn’t gone through enough! You fucking asshole –“

Natasha’s eyes snapped to Steve. “Cap what is he talking about? You did something to Peter?”

Steve ran a hand down his face. “Tony –“

“He sent him out as Spiderman! He played the guilt card on him. And now I have no idea where he is because he went out in his fucking pajamas and I’ve called his cell a million times! I have no idea where my kid is and it’s _your fault_!”

Steve looked a little nervous now. “He’s not answering his phone?” He asked in a small voice.

The comment just made Tony angrier. “No! What have you been _doing_ to him, Rogers? Getting in his head while I’ve been away? I fucking leave him here with you guys, trusting you, and this is what I –“

“I was trying to get him better Tony!” Steve’s voice gained volume. “I was trying to help him get stronger, to grow up! We’ve been spending time together – training – and it’s been helping! He’s been getting better! We’ve all seen it, you know you have –“

“That answers _nothing_! He doesn’t need to grow up when he’s _sixteen_ and got fucking kidnapped and _tortured_! Kids like that don’t need to grow up, they need to be taken care of –“

Steve was breathing heavily now too. “Right. We all know you feel that way. You coddle him like he’s an infant. You baby him constantly, like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s ridiculous – how could he ever get better being treated like that –“

“Rogers, I swear to god if you don’t shut the hell up –“

Steve flung his hands up. “What? It’s true!” He looked around the room at the rest of the team who didn’t seem to be taking any sides, but waited with nervous silence. “You coddle him like he’s a little child!”

“Well you fucking know what, Rogers?!” Tony scratched against Clint and Bruce’s hands, trying to get away. “ _No one ever coddled me!_ I was treated like shit by every adult in my life – except for sometimes my mom. My childhood was shit and no one cared, no one ever listened for a half a second –“

The room was painfully silent. Steve stood with a fallen open mouth and a pained expression on his face. His posture was rigid.

“And then, I’m given this chance – this opportunity to do it over – to be better than all that. I get this kid and I love him to death and I want to give him everything but _you_ –“ He glared right into Steve’s eyes, which were finally beginning to look guilty. “You think you know better.”

Tony breathed heavily while everyone stood stock still. Steve’s hands were shaking. Tony smacked Clint’s hand away and reached in his pocket for his cell phone. He rang Peter again with the others listening on. It rang and rang and rang. No answer.

He felt stupid tears spring up in his eyes. “If anything has happened to him –“ He shut his eyes tight, and images came. Peter, dead in the gutter, chained in a basement. His frightened face if Richard found him.

_“I’ve never felt so hurt in my life –“_

Tony shuddered at the memory. “If he’s even sprained his ankle, you’re dead, Rogers. You’re dead, and you’re _out of here.”_

“I just wanted him to get better,” Steve’s expression was pleading, earnest. Tony hated him for it.

“You sent him after a serial killer,” Tony’s words were icy, unforgiving. “He’s barely sixteen and you sent him after a _serial killer,”_ His breath hitched suddenly. Bruce reached out a hand and placed it on Tony’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh,” He looked up at Bruce. “He’s out there after a serial killer. A fucking _rapist_ ,” He whirled back around to face Steve. “How – how could you – how could –“

He breathed deeply, trying to still his fury and endless panic. No one spoke, it was almost as if they were in shock at the gravity of the situation. Tony’s whole body was shaking now. Why wasn’t the kid answering?

God, please let nothing to have happened to him. Tony just couldn’t handle it if Peter was afraid, or hurt, or – or dead.

Peter dead. Dear God.

It was the unimaginable.

*

“Spiderman. My _goodness._ What an honor.”

The scratchy voice that spoke from the shadows terrified Peter. He circled the young girl, trying to keep his eyes at every edge of the warehouse at once.

“You really think you can take me?” Peter called into the darkness. “Do you even know who I am?”

There was more soft laughter. The girl clutched at Peter’s leg.

“Oh I know you.” That was a whisper. Peter doubted the girl could hear it. “I _know_ you.”

“Then you know it’s over for you. You’re done. You can’t hurt these people any more.”

In a flash, a form stepped out of the darkness. Peter started at the sudden sight of the gigantic man but held his ground.

He had to be at least 6’5. So tall that Peter had to crane his neck all the way up to see him. His hair was matted and thick, falling to the shoulders and nearly covering his eyes. Peter stole a glance down at the girl, whose face was completely bloodless. Her eyes popped out.

“It’s all right,” he assured her, then looked the killer right in the face. “He’s done.”

The murderer grinned. Several of his teeth were missing. Peter stood in his fight stance, ready to do, ready to end this –

But a light tapping on his leg stopped him.

He looked down at the girl to see her shaking her head frantically. “You’ll be fine,” he told her again, but she just kept shaking her head.

“S-s-spiderman, that’s not him,” she rasped. “That’s a different man. _That’s not the killer.”_

*

_“Ow, ow, ow! God Tony that hurts like shit!”_

_Tony held Peter’s shuddering arm in this hand. It was pulsing blood all over the bathroom floor. Peter had shining tears in his eyes._

_“I’m just gonna wrap it now – we’re almost done kiddie –“_

_Tony pressed a little harder to stop the bleeding. Peter squirmed. “Shit shit shit shit shit! That hurts!!!”_

_“That mouth of yours, Petey. You’re lucky I’m hip and cool.”_

_Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re old.”_

_“Mean.”_

_Tony finished wrapping. Peter’s face was stark white. “God, Tony.” He leaned forward against Tony’s collarbone. “That hurts like a motherfu –“_

_“All right!” Tony wrapped an arm around the kid. “Save me the heart attack, will ya?”_

_Peter didn’t say anything, or move from his spot. He just buried his head into Tony’s shoulder and breathed heavily._

_“Hey,” Tony shook Peter’s shoulder a little. It was a pretty gruesome sight for the two. They sat leaned against the bathtub with blood covering them both. A robber had sliced Spiderman’s entire arm open that night. “You doing okay?”_

_Peter nodded a little. “I just feel like crap.”_

_Tony rubbed Peter’s back. “Yeah, I’d think so. You’ve gotta be more careful, kid. Taking on big criminals, you just can’t do that –“_

_Peter tilted his eyes up. “Why not?”_

_Tony scoffed. “Because you’ve got me to worry about, all right? And I can’t lose you, kid,” He ruffled Peter’s hair a little. “I just can’t.”_

_*_

Happy raced through the streets of Queens like a getaway driver. He had Peter’s facial recognition, blood type, and fingerprints scanned and being searched for by FRIDAY in one ear. Tony’s loud voice was in the other.

“All right, Captain Shithole is taken care of – you find anything Happy? Happy?!”

Happy groaned. “Tony you have been screaming in my ear for over twenty minutes! How am I supposed to find the kid if I can’t focus?”

Tony’s annoyed tone came through the line. “I don’t know, find a – no, no, NO! You are _not_ coming!”

There was some mumbling.

“Because you’re a fucking asshole, Steve Rogers and you’ve helped enough. God help me, Happy.” Tony let out a long breath. “I really might kill this man.”

“I won’t stand in the way of that one,” Happy muttered. “I swear if anything has happened to Peter –“

“I can’t think about it.” Tony cut in. “God I just – I can’t.”

“He’s probably fine,” Happy tried to reassure, even though a sick feeling told him otherwise. “You know, just swinging around like a little dork.”

“God I hope so –“

A beeping on Happy’s watch startled him. “Tony! It’s – it’s something!” He looked down at the watch, instantly punching in coordinates of whatever FRIDAY had found. “Your AI found something! I’m going there right now!”

There was scuffling on the other line. “I’m getting in the suit right now. Rhodey’s here – he’s coming too.”

Happy looked at where he was headed. “Looks like the kid is in a warehouse somewhere. He’s probably fine, Tony. I don’t think you need two iron suits chasing him down.”

“I’ll decide that. Looks like you’ll get there in five. Go in and grab him and we’ll meet you.”

“What’s your ETA?”

“Twenty minutes. Be careful, Happy.”

“Same to you, boss.” Happy answered and then punched the gas even harder. Five minutes his ass. He could get there in three.

He was gonna ring Peter’s neck when he found him. Or, maybe ring Steve’s neck instead. Ring Steve, hug Peter. That sounded much better.

Damn the kid better be in one piece.

The warehouse was in a dirty, gray looking part of Queens. Happy stepped out of the car cautiously, scanning his surroundings.

“What are you doing here, Pete?” Happy whispered to himself.

He stepped around the perimeter carefully, keeping his gun trained by his hip. A door creaked from behind. Happy whirled around.

There was Spiderman, flinging himself from an open doorway with a teenage girl clinging at his arm. Peter pulled her along, keeping her firmly at his side.

“Spidey!” Happy called. Peter whipped his head up, surprised. Happy rolled his eyes at the stupid pajamas he was wearing and rushed over.

“See that car over there?” Peter said loudly to the girl, pointing at Happy’s car. “Run over there, I’ll be right here, just get in the car!”

As soon as Peter let go of the girl and she bolted away, Happy grabbed onto him by the shoulders. He shook the kid a little.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Taking out a serial killer? We’ve gotta go, the cops will be here soon.”

Happy groaned and reached at Peter’s mask. “Let me look at you,”

Peter slapped Happy’s hand away. “Not here. And I’m fine. It was easy, just knocked the guy out and webbed him up.”

Happy narrowed his eyes at the kid. Peter’s body was fidgety and his hands shook. His breathing came in quick, nervous gasps. Happy thumbed his shoulder.

“You’re fine? Then why does it seem like you’re freaking out?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t know – something feels, off. I don’t know –“

“Are you afraid?”

“I don’t –“

“Let’s just get you home, kid.” Happy said, a little worried about Peter’s fear. “Tony’s about sick with worry –“

Peter suddenly grabbed Happy’s forearm in a vice. “Pete?”

“Heartbeats,” Peter muttered.

“What?”

Peter looked behind him. “There’s – there’s more heartbeats. In the warehouse.”

Happy pulled Peter to him, holding him tight now. “That’s for the cops, kid. We gotta go.”

“But how are there more – I was just in there –“

“Peter don’t –“

“ _Peter Parker!”_ Cried a loud, commanding, almost sing-song voice. Both Happy and Peter turned their heads instantly towards the sound. “My favorite person!”

“Oh my god,” Peter said, hushed. “Happy – that’s –“

But Happy didn’t need to hear it, because Richard Parker came striding from the warehouse at that moment, answering his questions. Parker was complete with an expensive looking suit, sunglasses, and a full dozen men entourage.

Guns clicked instantly. Happy clicked his back, keeping his on the elder Parker. Terror raged in his stomach, willing Tony to hurry, to get here before he couldn’t protect the kid –

Happy tucked Peter to his chest. Peter’s voice was small. “I don’t understand – how did he –“

Richard’s wide grin on his face was sickening. He stepped over. “Happy, god, thank you so much for being here! You just made my day about a million times easier.”

Peter pulled the mask from his face, surprising Happy. There was a fire in the kid’s eyes. He stared at Richard directly.

“You leave him alone,” Peter said lowly. “Don’t you do _anything –“_

“There’s my boy!” Richard ripped the sunglasses from his eyes. “Look at that face! You look a little upset Peter –“

Peter gaped. “You’re him, aren’t you? You’ve been killing these people?”

Richard pursed his lips.

“Then who’d I just web up in there?” Peter asked, gesturing back towards the warehouse.

Richard shrugged. “Just a little distraction. You’re too easy, son. Didn’t your daddy Stark teach you anything?”

“You’re the killer,” Peter gave a little laugh. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

Richard held a hand over his heart. “You really think I could kill teenage girls, son?”

“Yes.”

“I’m flattered. Really, you’re sweet. It’s been fun these last few weeks – I’ve never gotten to be a serial killer before –“

Peter’s face was sick. He looked up at Happy with those big eyes. “You’re going to let Happy go. You’re going to _let him go.”_

Happy shook Peter’s arm. “Kid, I swear to god –“

Richard raised his hands up. “Oh, no problem, son, no problem. I just gotta get you to do one thing for your old dad here, it’s nothing big –“

Happy’s stomach dropped when Richard pulled a black bracelet from his pocket, fingering it almost lovingly. _Please get here, Tony. Please, please, please –_

“I just need you to let me put this on you, and come on a helicopter ride. Super easy, Pete – Happy will be fine –“

Peter’s chin trembled. Happy leaned over, trying to catch the kid’s eyes. “Peter, you listen to me – I am an adult, don’t you dare –“

“We’ve got twelve guns trained on Happy, _kiddie_ ,” Richard sneered. “He can be dead in two seconds. You know me – you know I don’t bluff.”

Peter looked down at the ground. Happy breathed heavily, glancing at his watch. If he could just distract them all for ten more minutes –

“Right,” Peter expressed quietly. He held out his wrist. “You don’t exactly play fair.”

Happy grabbed Peter’s wrist back, but the kid pulled himself away from his security guard. “I’m sorry, Happy –“

Happy made a desperate grab for the kid but was held back by two of the agents. “No, no, NO! Richard, you hurt that boy, I swear –“

Richard smirked at Happy as he snapped the bracelet on Peter’s trembling wrist. The kid looked defeated, yet strangely calm. They were going to take him – damn it damn it! Just eight more minutes – god please –

“What do you swear, Happy?” Richard asked. Happy felt his blood boil. “You’ve got _nothing_ , man. You want me not to hurt him? News flash – but the end of the day, he’ll be screaming so loud it’ll wreck his throat.”

Peter stared straight ahead, his face white. Happy pulled and struggled, kicking and yelling but it was no use. There were more of them and they were stronger. Peter gazed into Happy’s eyes and there was absolutely nothing he could do as Richard laughed and pulled the kid away. Nothing at all.

Seven minutes.

“Wait!” Happy screamed. “Wait! Wait! _Please!”_ He fell to his knees with anguish and the men dropped him to the floor. One pistol whipped him across the face and pocketed Happy’s gun.

Happy saw stars. Pain burst across his skull and red sprayed all across the concrete. His watch blared bright as the two men ran off after their boss.

Six minutes.

Peter screamed somewhere. Happy’s shaky arms tried to support him off the ground. “Please – not him –“

Five minutes.

A helicopter’s blades started. Happy strained to see it, but his vision was blurry. Within seconds, the sound increased and then quickly faded away. They were gone.

Four minutes.

Happy struggled to touch the watch on his wrist. His fingers couldn’t respond – they couldn’t contact Tony.

Three minutes.

None of his body parts were working. The pain in his head was nauseating. He cursed his weak, human self.

Two minutes.

The kid was gone. He’d lost him. They’d lost him.

One minute.

The Iron Man jets began to sound then, but Happy was already knocked out. The head wound was bleeding too much, and Tony found his friend there, laying in a pool of his own blood.

Five minutes too late.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U GUYS! Thanks so so so so so much for your awesome comments on the last chapter. Really made my week :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy the fun little twist in this chapter. I just hope you enjoy it all in general!

Peter didn’t know what he had expected to happen.

Had he really thought he would beat Richard somehow? Had he expected his psychotic father not to be one step ahead of him? Had he thought that Richard wouldn’t stoop as low as possible to hurt Peter even more?

No, he hadn’t really believed it would all work out. He always knew, somewhere deep down, that Richard would have a bigger plan.

He’d been expecting this.

So that’s why when that bracelet snapped onto his wrist, he didn’t panic. It was overwhelming to feel Spiderman blocked. The feeling almost made him lightheaded, legs shaky. But he breathed. He looked his father straight in the eyes. Because this was always going to happen.

When he was dragged over to the helicopter, he didn’t kick and scream.

When he got thrown inside, he let out an involuntary yelp but didn’t let it last.

And when Richard held his arm in a vice and they took off into the air, Peter didn’t let himself cry.

*

“We’ve got to get him to the hospital _now,_ Tony! He’s lost too much blood –“

Tony stared down at his friend, whose suit was drenched in red. He knelt down. “Right – right – can you – can you call?”

“An ambulance? Tony, we’ve gotta fly him –“

Tony shook his head, sick to his stomach. “We – we can’t, we don’t know if he can stand to fly that fast, just – please call?”

Rhodey paused for a moment, then broke away from Happy and obliged. Tony’s breathing came in quick bursts, the situation overwhelming him. He held the outer layer of his shirt to Happy’s head and watched the scene wildly.

“Peter!” Tony cried out loudly. “ _Peter!_ You here, kid?!”

Rhodey hung his phone up. “I’ve already scanned. He isn’t here.”

Tony felt panicked. “Then where _is_ he?!” He looked around again, praying the kid would materialize somewhere. “ _Damn it!”_

Happy let out a small groan. Tony pressed tighter to the wound and got in his friend’s line of vision. “Hey, Hap? Can you hear me?!”

He groaned again, eyes closed. “T’ny, I’m s-s-sor –“

“It’s okay, Happy, don’t be sorry about anything –“

Happy seemed to be struggling, desperate to get something out. “P’tr –“

Tony looked up at Rhodey anxiously. “Did you say Peter? Where is he, Happy? Help’s on the way, man don’t worry –“

Happy flickered his eyes open halfway. “I’m s’ry. P’tr, they – they got him –“

“Who? Who got him?”

But he already knew.

Damn it.

Happy struggled for one more second of consciousness to say, “Richard.”

*

Tony burst through the doors of the compound, his insides feeling like a whirlwind of madness. Rhodey had stayed with Happy at the ambulance, letting Tony know that it was all right for him to go look for his kid. It was what Happy would want, anyways.

“FRIDAY!” Tony called out. “I need global tracking, stat!”

Natasha came rushing into the room, a phone pressed to her ear. “I’ve already contacted SHIELD, Fury’s on the case, they’ve got their Hydra spies on it–“

Tony shot her a broken look. “Thank you. FRIDAY? Scans?!”

“Scanning, sir. Twenty minutes until scan is complete.”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and put hands over his face. “That’s too long. Damn it –“ He kicked the wall. “ _Damn it!”_

Bruce entered the room as well. “I scanned a bit before you were here. Peter’s not in Queens anymore – he’s could very well be out of the U.S. by now –“

Clint came running past. “He’s probably over international waters at this point – it’ll be almost impossible to locate him –

Natasha’s eyes widened. “But – but Tony has a global tracker, right?”

Tony had a shaking hand over his mouth. “It only works if you get them when they’re still in the states. It can track them anywhere from there. If they’re already out of the country – I – I can’t –“

They were all silent for a moment, breathing heavily. “Can’t – can’t – Wanda and Vision –“ Bruce stuttered. “Could they do anything?”

“I can call for them –“

Natasha placed her hand over her eyes at something that was said to her over the phone. “What?! _Shit!_ ”

Clint’s gaze shot to her. “What’s up?”

She looked at them all, crestfallen. “The Hydra spies – all of them – they’ve been discovered –“

Bruce’s face was white. “Are – are they --?”

She hung up the phone. “They’re dead.”

Tony felt white-hot fear wash all over him at the new realization. It was then that the terrible situation completely hit him. Peter was already too far away, so they wouldn’t be able to track him. He could be headed anywhere in the world, and Tony had no clue where that could be. All the spies were dead, so there was no one with an inside on anything Richard was doing. No one knew anything – there was no way to locate him –

His knees began to shake, unable to hold him up any longer. Bile rose in his throat, threatening vomit. Breathing became nearly impossible, as if something was literally obstructing his air passage. He flung his hands out, desperate to cling onto something before he fell.

Bruce was there instantly, helping Tony to the floor. The billionaire fell on all fours, all the symptoms of a panic attack coming at full force in his body.

“Tony, Tony come on – take a breath through the nose, man –“ Bruce tried to soothe. Tony hardly heard him.

Tony’s words came out choked. “How – how will we find him. There’s – there’s nothing – oh _god –_ “

Wanda and Vision entered then, just in time to witness the scene. They looked at the other Avengers curiously.

“There’s always more we can do, Tony,” Natasha expressed. “We can always –“

Tony’s hands shook uncontrollably. “I’m going to lose him – I’m going to lose my kid –“

He didn’t even realize that by then he’d started sobbing.

*

_It was a little past eleven at night. The living room was darkened so Tony, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, Wanda and Clint could watch The Shawshank Redemption. Wanda had let it slip that she’d never seen it, plus they were all in the mood to watch something really good._

_Then came Peter, with Bruce close behind. The kid’s hair was a mess, his pajama bottoms were wrinkled, and his oversized shirt seem to swallow him. Bruce kept a hand securely between Peter’s shoulder blades, but looked relieved._

_Tony was sitting on the edge of his seat now. “What happened?”_

_Bruce gave Peter a tiny push, gesturing for him to go to Tony. “He’s fine. He came to me with some pretty severe shoulder pain, but I’ve set it and gave him painkillers._

_Tony almost stood up in worry but paused when Peter crawled next to him on the couch and laid his head in his lap. Tony placed a hand on the kid’s hair and bent over to look into his face._

_“You hurt your shoulder? Peter --?”_

_Peter groaned. “I’m so so sleepy –“_

_“But kiddie, how did you hurt your shoulder?” Tony nudged Peter a little. “On patrol?”_

_Peter snuggled in closer. “Mhm,”_

_Tony sighed and petted Peter’s hair. Clint paused the movie. “Kid, you gotta tell me this kind of stuff. If your bones set wrong –“_

_“Bruce gave me lots of medicine, Tony,” Peter slurred in a childish voice. “He gave me lots and lots and lots –“_

_Tony rolled his eyes and looked up at Bruce who held his hands up. “He was in a lot of pain! And he doesn’t metabolize painkillers very well so I had to give him a lot –“_

_Peter waved a floppy hand in front of Tony’s face. “Hey – don’t fight. You’re not paying attention to me –“_

_“Yes I am!”_

_Peter’s voice was drugged and whiny. “No you’re not – you aren’t –“_

_“Come on, Tony, the kid needs some attention!” Clint laughed. Everyone else in the room was grinning at Peter’s loopy state._

_“Yeah!” Peter sat up and wrapped himself around Tony. “I need someone to give a shit about me and not treat me like a little shit, shit, uh –“_

_“Whoa, whoa, all right!” Tony stopped Peter and laid him back down. “Cool the language and I’ll give you all the attention in the world.” Then he looked up at Bruce again. “Thanks for making him even crazier, man –“_

_Peter touched Tony’s mouth sloppily. “Don’t be mean – Bruce is my friend –“_

_“Yeah, see?” Bruce gestured to Peter. “We’re friends.”_

_“Sure, sure,” Tony kept a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Is this movie gonna be too much for ya, Pete?”_

_Peter stared up at the ceiling. “I’ll close my eyes at the scary parts. Also can I just go to sleep?”_

_Tony shook his head fondly, “Yeah sure, kid. I’ll be here.”_

*

The memory hit Tony like a ton of bricks. The thought that he might never see Peter again, might never get to be around him again -- it was crippling.

“Tony I know this is – terrifying, for lack of better words,” Bruce said from his spot on the floor where Tony was still freaking out. “But just – just try to channel that fear differently. You’re a genius – you can find this kid. You can do anything.”

Tony heaved in a breath, trying to let Bruce’s words sink in. “And honestly,” Natasha added. “It isn’t even the end of the first day yet. We still have good chances. The less time we waste, the better.”

Right. He shouldn’t waste time. He was Tony Stark. What hadn’t he been able to do? He had been entrusted this boy and he would take care of him. He could find Peter. It might take a little digging but Peter was _not_ going to be missing forever.

“Okay,” Tony breathed, his voice sounding like a croak. He held out a hand, which Natasha took. “Help me up.”

She did, and he got himself shakily to his feet. Tony brushed himself off a little and looked around at everyone. They looked earnest. He knew they were all his friends, and he knew they loved Peter. No one would spare any expense to get him home.

“FRIDAY, get the jet ready,” Tony said loudly. Bruce raised his eyebrows. “We’re headed for SHIELD headquarters. We’ll be able to figure things out better there.”

He began to stride off then, preparing to leave, when he caught sight of Steve standing against the wall, almost hidden. The two caught eyes for a moment. Tony felt all the rage build back up inside. He didn’t step any closer because he knew things would get physical again.

He licked his lips before he spoke, trying to keep his tone even. “If you want to help, find your own way to get to headquarters. Don’t interact with me while you’re there.”

Steve nodded stiffly. The tension in the room was thick.

Tony started to walk away again, but looked back for a final say. He looked Steve in the face. “I’ll _never_ forgive you. Never.”

*

They blindfolded Peter and placed him in the corner of the helicopter for most of the trip. He sat there, slightly chilled, and tried to stay calm. The more time that passed, however, the sicker he started to feel. His lack of senses made everything feel off. He felt weaker than a normal human, it seemed. He wondered what would happen to him if he kept the bracelet on for too long.

The trip lasted for hours. Peter couldn’t exactly tell how many, but he knew it was long. He also knew the loud, jeering men on board were drinking a lot of alcohol. Even without his heightened senses the smell was prominent enough.

There was a whooping sound from the men when the helicopter blades seemed to speed up. “We’re here boys!” Richard’s loud voice rang. “Easier than we thought, huh?”

The ground jolted Peter when they met it. Someone pulled him to his feet by the hair. His hands flew up frantically, desperate to stop the pain. But he was too weak. There wasn’t anything he could do. There was no way to fight.

Cold air bit Peter’s face as he was dragged out of the helicopter. A crunching under his feet told him that there was snow on the ground. He stepped weird as he was struggling to keep up, rolling his ankle. Awesome. Two seconds there and he’d already sprained himself. Sharp pain shot all the way up his calf.

Slightly warmer air hit him moments later, but before he could register the change in temperature, sharp nails pulled the blindfold from his eyes, scratching the side of his face in the process.

Jeering faces met his vision instantly. Peter shivered at the cold. He was in a large house of some sort, but it didn’t seem to be very well heated. He noticed that all the men were in thick boots and large coats, while he was still only wearing his old Spiderman suit.

“Déjà vu, huh Peter?” Richard sneered, swimming into Peter’s line of sight. Peter glared at him, irritated by his father’s jovial cruelty. What an asshole. Richard hit him in the shoulder. “I said, déjà vu, huh?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yup, getting dragged around by a bunch of lowlife douchebags – total déjà vu for me –“

Richard grabbed him by the chin roughly, but Peter didn’t struggle. “I’d watch your shitty attitude, kid. You’ve already got a lot of hell waiting for you –

“Yeah, about that,” Peter retorted. “ _Why_ exactly is there hell waiting for me? I mean I get you’re evil and all, like trust me I get that. But what else is there? Are y’all just a bunch of mad scientists that are obsessed with the fact that I’m Spiderman or something?”

Richard’s face went from smirking to furious to smirking again. He looked up at the other men who got large grins on their faces and began to laugh loudly. Peter scrunched his eyebrows at them all, confused.

“Obsessed with the fact that you’re Spiderman?” Richard scoffed. Peter struggled with his chin still in Richard’s grasp. It was beginning to get sore. “Well of course we are, son! We _made_ you Spiderman!”

The laughter in the room grew, as did Peter’s confusion. “ _You_ made me Spiderman? What are you talking about?”

Richard looked around at his friends. “Kid’s a little slow isn’t he? Come on, Pete. Think!”

And Peter did. He thought of how Richard could possibly think _he_ had anything to do with Peter being Spiderman. What could he –

Then it dawned on him.

The experiments. When he was little.

Richard and his cronies must think their experiments worked somehow. That they were the ones that gave Peter super strength and healing and agility.

Then with that thought, came Peter’s laughter.

He started laughing loudly. But not the way he laughed around Tony, or Ned and Michelle. That laughter was light and happy. This laughter rang in ironic frustration. Because how _stupid_ was it that he’d gotten caught up in all this shit just for his father to be _wrong?_

Richard punched him swiftly in the mouth, causing warm blood to spill between his lips. But Peter couldn’t stop laughing. It was too funny. They were all such _idiots._

His dad kicked him hard in the ribs, sending Peter to the floor. He coughed out red. “Stop laughing you little fuck! Stop!”

Peter shook his head, half doubled over from pain, half from laughing even harder. Richard hit him across the face again. “I said stop! Shut the fuck up!”

Peter spat a large wad of blood on the ground and looked up. “You – you actually think –“ He had another fit of laughter. “That you’re – you’re the – the mastermind –“ He did air quotes at the word ‘mastermind’. Richard looked about ready to burst. “-- behind me being Spiderman?”

His laughter continued. The men looked at Richard. “Rich – what’s he talking about?” one of them asked.

More blood spilled onto the carpeted floor. “I was bit by a radioactive spider while on a field trip to Oscorp, you idiots. Trust me, your shitty little experiments had nothing to do with this.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. Everyone looked at Richard nervously. Peter knew he’d gotten to him.

“You’re lying,” Richard nearly whispered.

Peter shrugged. “I’m not. Look at me. You really think I could make that up on the spot?”

The look that came on Richard’s face made Peter laugh again. He was still laughing when Richard screamed for him to be taken away – still laughing as they yanked him up the stairs. God, they were going to beat the hell out of him, but whatever. At least he’d messed their day up a whole lot.

Dipshits.


	18. Chapter 18

While Tony worked, he couldn’t get that song out of his head.

That stupid Hamilton song.

He figured if he just listened to it, that would get it out of his system and he’d be fine.

Well, no it didn’t get it out of his system and no he wasn’t fine. All the damn song did was make everything worse.

_“There are moments that the words don’t reach, there is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can, and push away the unimaginable –“_

“This isn’t what you normally listen to,” Bruce observed, walking over where Tony was furiously working. They were at SHIELD headquarters, had been for hours. So far, no leads. “Where’s the rock and roll?”

Tony didn’t take his eyes from the screen. “Not feeling it today.”

_“The moments when you’re in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down – the Hamilton’s move uptown, and learn to live with the unimaginable –“_

“Seriously, what is this?” Bruce asked, furrowing his brows at the song’s lyrics.

_“Phillip you would like it uptown, it’s quiet uptown – he is going through the unimaginable –“_

“Fucking Hamilton song,” Tony mumbled. “I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

_“You knock me out, I fall apart – can you imagine –“_

Tony’s chin shook. He’d been on and off with all kinds of emotions. There was stress, then there was sadness, then anger, then an overwhelming, stifling fear. Fear of the future, fear of what could happen, of what _was_ happening. What were they doing to Peter? Would they torture him more? Beat him, starve him, electrocute him? Tony’s sixteen year old?

What if they killed him? What if they couldn’t find any more use for Peter and they _killed_ him? Was Tony going to have to end up like this fucking Hamilton guy, wandering around the streets, heartbroken for the rest of his life? Life would never go on – he’d never get over it –

The music stopped suddenly. Tony’s head shot up to find Bruce, looking concerned. He held the auxiliary chord between his fingers and shrugged.

“I never really liked Hamilton,” Bruce expressed. “I think rock and roll would get you more motivated.”

Tony watched him walk away.

*

Peter shook with cold. They’d dragged him to the basement, cuffed his hands around a pole, and left him there. But not before they bashed his chin into the ground and took a large blood sample. That was lovely.

It was so freezing that he could very clearly see his breath. He sat on the floor and leaned against his forearms. He’d never felt so cold in his life. Wherever they were must be in the arctic or something. It seemed super remote and Peter could hear a snowstorm raging outside.

Footsteps came pounding down the stairs. Peter’s stomach filled with lead as he prepared himself for what was likely to be something very unpleasant.

“Ya cold, Pete?” came Richard’s loud voice. He entered the room, face white and pinched in a revolting expression. It terrified Peter to the core. Richard looked absolutely furious.

He knelt in front of Peter, who turned on his act as soon as he could. “Oh, hey dad. You know, know that you mention it – it’s a little chilly.”

Richard’s mouth quirked up slightly in a humorless way. “I’m gonna love cutting your tongue out. Your little comments fucking annoy me.”

Peter froze for a second. What the hell? What were you even supposed to say to that –

Richard really grinned now. “That shut you up, didn’t it?” He pulled a little vial filled with red liquid out of his pocket. “You were right,” He waved the vial in Peter’s face. “We did some tests. Tested our stuff, tested your blood. It’s radioactive.” Richard’s voice was like ice. Peter felt evil in the room. He was really scared now. He wanted to be strong and tough but in reality he’d never felt so afraid in his life.

Peter’s arm was grabbed suddenly. Richard took the vial and smashed it into his son’s skin, pushing the glass deep into flesh. Peter screamed and struggled, trying to pull himself away. His arm stung with the broken glass stuck inside.

“Yeah, hurts huh?” Richard sneered, looking crazed. He pulled a cigarette out of his suit pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it up. “There’s _a lot_ of things that can really hurt.” He blew a puff of smoke in Peter’s face. “The good thing is – now that you’re utterly useless to us, your death is going to hurt so much more than it needed to,”

He knelt close and got right in Peter’s ear. “You think you got me with that little stunt you pulled upstairs? You think you have the cute snarky comments down?” He backed up and blew more smoke into Peter’s face. “That’s fine. But now – now nothing is going to stop me from giving you back to your Tony Stark. Piece. By. Piece.”

Peter stayed perfectly still, hating how close Richard sat to him, hating the fear that boiled inside, and hating the entire situation in general. Richard grabbed Peter’s arm again.

“Wow, you really are cold, son –“ Richard stated. He twirled the cigarette between his fingers. “I’d hate for you to freeze. Here –“ He moved the red-hot end close by Peter’s forearm. “Let me help.” The cigarette met Peter’s skin, scorching it in a neat hole.

Peter’s scream echoed off the walls.

*

As Tony frantically ran through FRIDAY’s databases, he forgot to take care of some things.

Like the fact that he was human and humans need sleep.

So – he dozed.

_“It’s all right, kiddie,” He held Peter tight, nearly crushing him against his chest. “I’m here, you’re with me –“_

_He looked down at Peter, trying to catch the kid’s glance. Peter shook._

_“Hey, Pete –“ He shook him a little. “Talk to me,”_

_Peter looked up with those huge eyes and a mouth clamped shut. He shook his head. His face looked terrified._

_“You can’t talk? Peter, what’s wrong? Why are you scared --?”_

_Peter’s eyes betrayed him when they flicked up to look at something behind Tony. The elder whirled around, keeping Peter securely behind him._

_“Who’s there?” Tony called into the shadows. He tried to back him and Peter away._

_Richard Parker slunk from the darkness, eyes red and skin nearly transparent. His hands, which were drenched in dark red blood, hung loosely at his sides. Bright drops dripped onto the ground._

_Tony stared in horror. “What –“ He turned to Peter, who had a gaping hole in his middle. Blood dripped from his mouth. Tony grabbed him by the shoulders. “No, no, no! Why?!” He looked to Richard. “He’s just a baby! Why?!”_

_Richard shrugged, eyeing Peter’s wound and smearing the blood on his hands around. “It’s fun.”_

“Tony! Hey!”

Someone was jostling him, annoying him. They needed to get away – Peter needed help –

“Tony! Come on man –“

The kid needed an ambulance –

“Tony!”

The said person jolted awake, noticing sweat on his forehead and neck. Heart thumping, he looked up to see Rhodey, who looked extremely concerned.

“You know –“ Tony croaked. “I don’t think you’ve ever woken me up without that expression on your face,”

Rhodey didn’t look amused. “Man, you look like hell.”

Tony scrubbed his face with his hands. “I _feel_ like hell. I feel like the gates of hell opened up and swallowed – wait!” He sat up straighter. “I was asleep?! For how long?”

Rhodey held his palms out. “Whoa, whoa just –“ He placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Take it easy, would you? You really aren’t looking too good.”

The hand on Tony’s shoulder irritated him, so he shook it off and stood up. “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple hours. Tony, honestly –“

Tony looked at his watch hurriedly. “It’s been twenty hours now. Twenty hours since he was taken.” He looked up at Rhodey nervously. “Seventy-four percent of abducted children who get murdered are dead within three hours of the abduction.”

“Well, this isn’t really a normal abduction. They don’t want to kill him. Why are you looking up statistics like this anyways --?”

Tony ignored him. “I have no leads. Does anyone else have any leads? Do you know?”

Rhodey looked at Tony a little sadly. “Not yet, man. They cover their tracks really well. But –“

Tony let out a little laugh of panic. “So – okay – so far all we have is he’s somewhere in the world. Somewhere –“

“We’ve just gotta keep trying, man,” Rhodey tried to reach out again. “No one can cover themselves up that well. They always make a mistake.”

*

_Peter was wrecked. He must have been at the hospital for hours. Tony had no idea the last time the kid had eaten – or slept._

_Right, so he was supposed to do that now. Feed him and stuff._

_Was he supposed to like, cook food for him? Or could the kid make his own food? Was he supposed to tell him to go to bed or was he old enough –_

_Wow, the kid really didn’t look too good. Tony watched his pale form sway on his feet in the darkened living room. Well, May Parker had only died hours ago. Pete was bound to be pretty shocked –_

_Tony stood by him carefully. “Hey, kiddo –“ He started. “You wanna get some sleep? I had your room all cleaned up and everything –“_

_Peter stared straight ahead, but nodded very slightly. Tony put a tentative arm around the kid’s shoulders and led him through the hallway to the room he normally stayed in. It was true. He’d had it all cleaned up a few days ago. The comforter replaced – better pillows – a bigger television._

_Yeah, he kinda liked it when Peter stayed with him. He just wanted the kid to come back. Now it looked like he’d be here for quite a while._

_Peter curled up in a ball on his bed without getting under the covers. Tony stared at him for a split second. He knelt down._

_“Do you want me to stay?” He asked Peter quietly. Peter glanced up at him._

_“You? Stay?” His voice was small. Cracked. It literally cracked because he was that young. Tony felt lightheaded._

_He shrugged. “Yeah, me.”_

_Peter’s chin trembled. He looked almost surprised at Tony. “Would – would you?”_

_Tony touched the side of Peter’s face. “I’ll stay for whatever you need, kiddo. No matter what.”_

*

How long had it been? The sun had been up, then fell, then up, and now it was falling again. So over a day now. God, it was so cold when the night came. The only window in the basement was open a little, letting icy winds blow through.

They obviously thought it was funny to make it seem so easy to escape. Open window, normally open basement door. They got him, because it was frustrating. How easy it would be to break these cuffs if he was Spiderman. He could take all these lowlifes out –

Burns littered all the way up both arms. They were red and oozing blood. Richard hadn’t been able to stop at one. Or two. Or ten. He could feel more dried blood encasing his chin and down his neck. His jaw hurt horribly – that all was from getting his chin smashed in the floor. The ankle that he’d hurt at the start of the trip was huge and purple now. It ached and pulsed with his heartbeat. Glass was still agonizingly embedded in his arm, sending shoots of pinpricks all over.

Steps began to sound again at the top of the stairs. Peter felt like bawling.

_Don’t let your fear make you lose._

Yeah, well, whatever Steve cause this was freaking terrifying.

The steps were different this time, however. They weren’t pounding and dramatic. It was almost as if they were trying to be quiet. Peter did his best to turn around and look.

A woman came creeping into the room, looking flighty. Peter eyed her curiously. She held a finger to her lips.

“Don’t speak,” She whispered. She looked to be in her late thirties. Her skin was dark and glowed, as did her eyes. She was one of those people you looked at a little extra because they were so beautiful. “I’m just here to give you information.”

Peter kept his voice low as well. “Who are you? I only ever see men –“

“There’s more people behind the scenes,” She crouched down in front of him. “Listen, you’ve got to get out of here – now. They’re coming up with a new plan – since you’re basically useless to them scientifically –“

“Yeah – they’re gonna beat me to a –“

She shook her head. “That’s not gonna benefit them anything. They’re going to call Stark here – tonight. They’re going to get him isolated.”

Hot fear prickled up Peter’s neck. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Why?” He rasped.

“Because he’ll come. You know him. He’ll come for you, right?”

Peter nodded instantly. “Yes. He will.”

“Right. They’re going to get him here and make him give them all kinds of money and manufacture things for them. Then they’re going to _kill_ him. They have it all planned out. They’re going to _kill_ Stark.”

Peter shook. “W-w-why?” He was horrified. This was a new kind of fear. “Why kill him?”

She shrugged. “Why not? You have to get out. They’re going to make a video tonight and send it to him. You need to be gone.”

“How? How can I --?”

She stood up, looking almost businesslike. She didn’t seem like she showed emotion very much. “I don’t know – figure it out, Spiderman.”

Then she turned on her heel and was silently gone.

Peter’s chest heaved with anxiety. They were going to kill Tony. God – they were going to kill him. Then Peter would be all alone in the world. Completely alone.

_Don’t let your fear make you lose._

Was it? Would his fear really make him lose Tony? Sure, he was afraid, but what else could he do? He was freaking chained to his pole with no powers, nothing to help him –

Nothing.

Except.

Except himself.

He eyed the black on his wrist, constricting him – restraining him. They hadn’t unlocked it before. They didn’t know how. No – they’d gotten it off _themselves._

Holy shit.

He just needed to break his hand. Easy, right? Just one hand. Just break the thumb and he’d be able to get out of the cuffs and slide that damn bracelet off. It shouldn’t be too hard. He still had his shoes on and everything.

It was for Tony.

Tony, who’d done everything for him, who worried over him, loved him. He could break his own hand for Tony.

Breathing deeply through the nose, he pushed himself as far back as the cuffs would allow and bent his leg up high. He needed to gather as much momentum as possible. He situated his hand against the pole and prepared for his foot to smash against it.

He just hoped he could keep in the scream.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments you guys :) I love them!
> 
> I also loved writing this chapter! Enjoy!

Peter tried his best not to make any noise.

But damn, it was hard.

With eyes shut, and the thought of Tony getting killed in his mind, he slammed his sneakered foot as hard as he could against his hand.

“Shit,” he rasped after the first attempt. There was a smarting in his hand now. God it hurt. “Shit, shit, shit –“

He took in a deep breath. The cold stung his throat.

If he could just break this hand, he could be home in his warm bed soon. His warm bed, an alive Tony, and hopefully something to eat –

He couldn’t even remember the last thing he’d eaten.

Summoning strength, he pulled his foot back again. This time there was a sickening crunch. He couldn’t stop his gasp of pain.

“God damn it, shit, shit –“ He let his head droop for a moment. A couple tears leaked out. “All right, come on. Last time.”

The thumb was very clearly broken but not enough to pull the hand out yet. It hurt so bad Peter wanted to puke. Or scream his head off.

“Okay, okay – shit –“ He got ready to break it some more. “Come on, Peter. You can do it. Come on Spiderman –“

And he pounded the poor hand again, snapping it nearly into jelly. When he was finished gasping and swallowing back bile, he slowly peeked his eyes open.

And had to hold back more vomit.

The hand really did look like jelly, or at least like it had no bones. The thumb hung loosely, and the knuckles were scrunched in where the bones had splintered. He took in a shuddering breath.

He didn’t let himself cry when he slid the arm out of the cuff, but damn did he want to. He wanted to just curl up in a blanket on the couch and have Tony let him bawl his eyes out until he fell asleep.

Well, now that he was free, he could do that pretty soon.

The hand slunk out with a little prodding. He was free from the pole. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered to himself. “I can’t believe that worked.”

He whined in pain when he pulled at the black bracelet. That one was on there a little tighter. He pulled again.

Sharp, terrible pain skyrocketed up his arm. His breathing quickened. He couldn’t do it – he couldn’t do it –

_Steve’s punches. “I’m probably going to knock you down again. Will you get up this time?”_

No. He couldn’t. Not anymore. He was freezing and starving and in literal agony. He couldn’t do it.

_May, sitting close to him on their old ratty couch. She pulled him close. “I love you, Peter. You’re my baby.” She kissed his temple, and he pulled away with a laugh like a stupid teenager._

God, why did he ever pull away?

_Tony’s hand on his shoulder. “If you ever listen to anything I say, listen to this. You are a wonderful person –“_

No, he was a shit person. A shit person that went and got himself captured and was going to get Tony killed –

 _“Not trying to be overly cheesy here kid, because you know I hate that. But just so you know –_ I’m _going to be a constant in your life.”_

Tears threatened to fall. He gave another pull on the bracelet. It was going to need plenty of wiggling and pulling to get it off. Every touch made it feel like nails were being pushed into his hand _._

_Ned’s concerned face. “Are you_ _happy_ _, Peter?”_

“No I’m not fucking happy,” Peter said to himself. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Shit things keep happening to me _–“_

The bracelet had barely budged. Peter didn’t think he had it in him to break his hand any more.

_Cap’s hard, yet caring face. “I’m not going to baby you, Peter –“_

But he wanted to be babied. Hell, he wanted that more than anything in the world at the moment. For someone to fix all his problems.

But he couldn’t be babied if he didn’t get home. And he couldn’t get home if he had this stupid thing around his wrist.

So he pulled. And when it hurt even worse he just scrunched his eyes shut and pulled even harder and harder and then as hard as he could. All the way until he felt it slip off completely.

Damn.

He’d actually done it.

He stared at the little bracelet in his hand, shocked. “Hell,” He gasped, shaking violently. “I’m the _best_.”

*

Tony sat rigidly at his computer with Nick Fury standing behind, practically breathing down his neck. Natasha stood at his other side, arms crossed and hip popped. Clint was close to her, his face ashen.

“So – you feel there’s no point to attack Hydra’s main headquarters?” Tony asked for the millionth time, staring at the screen that gave no new information. Fury sighed.

“He isn’t there, Stark.”

Tony whirled around in his chair. “How do you know?”

“I agree,” Natasha cut in. “There’s no way they would bring him there. It’s too obvious.”

“Maybe that’s the point –“

Fury shook his head. “No. This is Richard. He’s got his own units, own bases, everything. It’s just all so hidden.”

Tony scratched his chin. “But why wouldn’t we just try –“

“We can’t just storm Hydra’s headquarters with the possibility of Peter being there. Do you know how many men that will take? We need to be one hundred percent –“

Tony felt heat rise in his face. Natasha noticed his anger and bit her lip. “No we don’t! If there’s even a _tiny_ chance he’s at any place – ugh –“ He stopped when he felt his phone buzzing. Irritated, he whipped it out, ready to decline whoever felt the need to bother him at a time like –

But stopped.

He squinted at the screen. “It’s a face-time request,” He stated quietly. “From a blocked number.”

Clint pushed himself forward. “What?”

Tony licked his lips. “My phone can’t get blocked numbers – how –“

He looked up at the other three. Natasha looked professional. “Everyone step out of the way of his screen,” She ordered. “Answer it, Stark.”

Tony did so with a shaky thumb. He kept himself as calm as possible – because it could be anything – it could just be –

Richard.

His face materialized on Tony’s hand-held screen. That face which was so like Peter’s with the brown eyes and peaked nose. But also so different in coldness and dark humor. Tony sucked in a surprised breath and flicked his eyes up to Natasha’s. She scrunched her eyebrows at him and he gave her a minute nod. She nodded back in understanding.

“Tony Stark!” Richard’s voice pounded through the phone. “Good to see you, man!”

Hot, uncontrollable rage began to course through Tony. Natasha held a hand up to him and lowered it slowly. The message was clear: stay calm.

Right. Be calm. For Peter. He could do anything for Peter.

“Richard,” Tony replied in greeting. “Where is he?”

Richard gave a little chuckle. It made Tony’s arm hairs stand up. “Right to the point, huh? I like that about you Stark –“

“Where _is_ he?”

Fury and Clint were frantically typing at the computer. Tony recognized the programming they were using – trying to trace the place of the call.

“No worries, he’s safely in my thirty degree basement. Not harmed – well, his arms are a little burned up but we can save that story for later, huh?”

Tony was about to lose control. He was about to scream his head off and cry and break things. It was too much – there was an overload of anger – he couldn’t –

Then Pepper Potts, looking nearly breathtaking, came rushing into the room. Tony guessed Rhodey had called her a bit ago, informing her of the situation. Natasha looked at her and held a finger to her lips. Pepper looked from Nat to Clint and Fury and then to Tony. Her quick brain caught hold of the situation and in an instant she was kneeling in front of Tony with a hand on his knee.

Her touch relaxed him. His grip on the phone loosened a little. “What do you want, Parker?”

“You know Tony, there’s a lot of things I want. One is for your boys to stop trying to trace my call. It’s making my hackers work even harder and honestly – it’s not going to work.”

Tony let out a breath of frustration. He looked over at Clint and Fury and shrugged. They stopped. “All right. What else do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

“Why would you be calling?”

Richard quirked his mouth. “Well, because you want something, Stark! Far more than whatever I want –“

Tony kept his gaze hard. He buried his emotions down. Richard looked a little surprised at his facial expression.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Richard inquired teasingly. “You do want something from me?”

Pepper squeezed his knee. Tony’s hands shook. He swallowed. “Yes. I do.”

Richard leaned a little closer to the camera. “What do you want, Stark? Tell me.”

God, he hated him. He hated hated hated him. Natasha looked a little murderous now as well.

“What do you want, Stark?”

He gave in. “Peter.”

Richard grinned big. “Why do you want Peter?”

Tony looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “What is this twenty questions, Parker? Why are you --?”

“Answer the fucking question, Stark.”

And just like that, Parker changed. It was like a new person came forth and started speaking. Tony got it. Richard getting his way was the snarky, bitchy personality. Richard not getting his way turned scary.

Tony’s chin shook. “Because – because he’s my kid.”

“Aw. Do you _love_ him?”

Tony bit down on his lip hard. He and Pepper were holding hands now. He hoped he wasn’t crushing her bones.

“Yes. I love him. What do you want, Parker?”

Richard leaned back in his chair, that jovial personality back. “I want you, Tony Stark, at my headquarters. Just you. And, of course, your mind and money – but we’ll talk about all that later.”

Tony looked up at Fury, who shook his head. “Just give me the directions and I’ll meet you,” He stated confidently.

“Oh, gladly. I’ve already sent them to your Iron Man suit. So all you gotta do is fly yourself over here, absolutely alone, and you could have Peter back this evening.”

Tony paused, his brain whirling. It was an obvious trap – it didn’t even sound like he’d be able to get Peter to safety –

“And I mean alone, Stark. We see or sense anyone else coming, I cut the kid’s tongue out. Trust me, that won’t be difficult for me. His fucking voice annoys the shit out of me –“

“Don’t touch him –“ Tony said instantly. “I’ll – I’ll come, just don’t touch him –“

Richard narrowed his eyes at Tony. “Don’t even think about underestimating me here, Stark. Everything I say I’ll do – I do. I don’t bluff. I will fucking destroy this kid if you try to pull anything. Cutting his tongue out will be the least of it. I’ll water board him until he goes insane, I’ll burn him alive, I’ll –“

“I get it –“ Tony interrupted, feeling vomit rise. His throat was so tight it hurt. “I don’t think you’re bluffing.”

“Good,” Richard said simply. “Be here by tonight, Stark. No funny business.”

“Wait!” Tony called desperately when it looked like Richard was going to hang up. “Let me – let me see him. I need to know he’s there, that he’s all right –“

Richard rolled his eyes. “Oh, I almost forgot –“

“Parker –“

“Oh, all right. Boys?” He ordered. “Could you go get my son? We need a little father-son time.”

Footsteps sounded then, and a few doors creaked open. “You’ll have to forgive my handiwork on him, Stark,” said Richard. “You see, I just didn’t know where to put out all of my cigarettes and he was right there –“

Tony’s heart pounded while Richard laughed. Clint’s face was whiter than a sheet. Fury did that calming motion that Natasha had done earlier and it made Tony want to scream. How the hell was he supposed to stay calm?

There was some shuffling on the other side of the camera. Richard was looking at someone, and his face turned furious. A few more seconds passed. Richard’s expression grew darker.

“Changed my mind,” Richard shot out coldly. “You’ll see him when you get here. Tonight, Stark.”

And the screen went black.

Tony shot up from his chair. “God _damn_ it!” He shouted, kicking the desk. Pepper stood up as well, looking anxious. He kicked the desk a couple more times. He wanted it to break – to fall apart, just like every little thing in his life was falling apart.

Fury rubbed his head, looking strangely still. “Damn it is right. You did well though, Stark – you kept really calm –“

“Which did shit for me!” All the anger he’d been holding in was pulsing out now. “I didn’t even get to see him – and now – how the hell will I get him back, they’re still going to –“

Clint spoke up then, rather quietly. “Does anyone think it’s weird that he didn’t let us see him?”

“No, Richard’s a sicko, he likes to play those little games –“

“It was weird,” Fury stated. Tony looked at him curiously. “They don’t have him.”

There was a beat of silence. Tony shook his head a little, trying to comprehend. “What do you mean they don’t have him?”

“Something must have gone wrong – they probably did have him for a bit. But if you noticed at the end of the conversation, Richard got really angry – his plans got messed up –“

Tony struggled to come to terms with this new theory. He soon found himself pacing back and forth, trying to come up with an idea – trying to understand –

When his phone buzzed again.

“Son of a bitch,” He expressed, pulling it out. But it wasn’t a face-time request. And it wasn’t blocked. It was some number he didn’t know from –

“Russia,” Tony stated. “I’m getting a call from Russia –“

Everyone gathered around him, making Tony decide to put the call on speaker. It wasn’t like he could get crank calls or sales to his phone. No one had his number.

“Hello?”

It sounded like there was a heavy wind on the other line. Some scraping sounded as well. Tony listened hard, trying to hear a voice or anything –

“Tony?”

The teenage voice that came through was garbled and breathy, but Tony would have known it anywhere. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach turned over. The others gasped in delighted shock.

_“Peter?!”_

*

If Peter had thought it was cold in the basement, whew, he shouldn’t have stepped outside.

Once the bracelet was off his senses began flooding back. It was a wonderful feeling, almost like a weight was being lifted off his chest.

He silently slipped out the window, listening intently for any other heartbeats or breathing around him. Looking back and forth out at the icy tundra, he saw nothing.

The cold winds outside went right through his body. He was still only wearing the old Spiderman suit – not even a full jacket. His ankle also still ached painfully, making every step close to agony. But he still moved quickly, away from the house he’d been a captive in and across the snow.

Where the hell was he? It looked like a frozen wilderness, but also had gray ocean way out into the horizon. It fit that Richard would bring him to some artic island to freeze his ass off –

He walked for hours, trying desperately to get as much space from the house as possible. The red and blue outfit stuck out painfully against the white landscaping. He realized that once they discovered him gone, it wouldn’t be too hard of a search.

God, there had to be someone else that lived here –

With his ankle now mercifully numb from the cold, and his hands shaking, he caught the sight of a medium sized boat docked down at the shore. A couple men meandered around it, looking to be fisherman.

Peter quickened his pace. God, if he could just get to a phone, then find a place to hide – it could really be all right, he might win this one –

“Hello!” he tried to call. His voice crackled and faded with the cold. “Hello! Please!”

His voice wasn’t loud enough. He limped closer and called out again. This time the men looked up.

Peter dragged himself over to them. “P-p-please –“ He began. They took in the sight of him, looking intensely surprised. Peter imagined he must look pretty strange. A teenage boy limping across the snow in red and blue sweats. Not the most normal thing in the world.

One of them roughly said a few words in a language Peter didn’t know. It sounded German. Or Russian? That made sense – it was all snowy and cold –

“Russian?” Peter gasped. “You’re Russian?”

The men looked at each other and then nodded. Peter nodded too.

“Phone?” He asked, holding his thumb and pinky finger to his ear, showing what he meant. “Phone? Please?” Then he placed both hands together, like he was praying. Please, please –

They shared a glance again, looking a little worried now. Peter felt like collapsing. One of the men took a couple steps forward and placed a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder. The other pulled out a brick-like cell phone and handed it to him.

He felt like bawling at the sight of it. “I’ll pay the international fees,” He rasped, knowing they couldn’t understand him.

With trembling fingers he dialed that number he knew so well. It took a couple tries because he was so cold. A large coat found its way around his shoulders. One of the fisherman gave it to him. Peter looked up at him gratefully.

Finally, he got the number right. Shaking, he pressed the phone to his ear, hoping it would work – hoping the call would go through –

The wind ripped around him when an answer came. “Hello?”

Tony’s voice.

It was almost like warm water got poured all over him. Peter practically sobbed his name.

“Tony.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy chapter twenty you guys!!! 
> 
> I like this chapter, but hell, after this one shit is gonna get too real. I'm pumped. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> BTW, changed my pen name. Was Dylanthebae4 and now it’s Emma_Anacortes. Just FYI :)

_Tony drove alongside Peter slowly. The kid walked at a fast pace through the icy sleet, his backpack so full it was practically dragging._

_“Come on, Pete –“ Tony called through the rolled down car window. “Just get in the car – you’ll freeze out there –“_

_Peter walked on, his head down and face full of annoyance. “I’ve walked home from school for years, Tony. I’ll be fine.”_

_Tony rolled his eyes. He and Peter had started living together just around a month ago. It was still very new for both of them to adjust from being buddies that worked on suit upgrades during weekends to guardian and child. That, with Peter’s very understandable emotional problems and moodiness made living pretty difficult._

_Whenever Tony brought up changes that needed to happen in Peter’s life (like the fact he needed a ride home now because they lived much further away) it set the kid off. It was like he was trying to keep his old life as untouched as possible._

_“You can’t walk home, kid,” Tony explained patiently. “It’s way too far. You’ll be walking all night –“_

_“I’m walking to the subway, Tony. I’m not an idiot.”_

_Tony let out a long sigh. “Kid, would you just get in the car?”_

_“No.”_

_“I’ll buy you a treat on the way home if you do.”_

_“Oh shut up, Tony –“_

_Damn. Kid really was upset. “All right, I get it. You’ve had a bad day. Just get in the nice warm car and we can talk about it.”_

_“I don’t wanna talk about shit. I want to walk.”_

_God how was this his life now? Who thought he should ever be allowed to take care of a teenager?_

_“Damn it, Peter – get in the car or I will get out and_ make _you –“_

_Peter scoffed. “I’d like to see you try and catch me.”_

_“I’ve got the suit in the trunk.”_

_Peter stopped in his tracks. Tony hit the brakes. “Do you really?”_

_Tony nodded. “Yup. It’s all ready to track down angsty teenagers.”_

_Peter stood there, getting poured down on, facing the car. He seemed to be at war with himself. Then, without warning, his face crumpled in despair and his legs buckled._

_“Aw, shit,” whispered Tony, putting the car in park and getting out quickly._

_He wasn’t fast enough. Peter was already sitting on the soggy concrete getting soaked with his face in his hands. Tony knelt beside him, the knees of his suit pants getting wet._

_“Hey, kid,” Tony put a hand on Peter’s back. “Come on, it’s all right –“_

_Peter let out shuddering breaths. “I – I just – just want to walk –“_

_“I know ya do, kiddie,” Tony expressed patiently. “But that’s just – not how it’s going to be anymore.” He wasn’t just talking about the transportation situation._

_Peter sniffled. Tony pulled him up by the upper arm and led him over to the car. Placing him securely inside, he hurried over and got in the driver’s seat. Peter curled up in his chair, hair plastered to his face, looking small. The tips of his cheeks and nose were bright red with cold. Tony cranked the heat up, pulled Peter’s coat off him, and rubbed his arms._

_“You’re going to get sick,” Tony muttered. Peter stared straight ahead. Tony let out a little breath. “It’s gonna be all right, Pete,” He tried to reassure. “Things are going to get better. You’ll see.”_

*

Tony gasped out his name back.

“ _Peter?_ ”

Peter couldn’t help it. Tears crept up in his eyes and throat. All that training – all that work, and he was still a wuss.

“Yeah – yeah, it’s me –“ he blubbered. “Tony it’s me –“

Tony let out a little laugh. “Is it just you? Who else is with you?”

He was really crying now. It was like he was having an adrenaline crash, but a little too early. “Um – um I found these fisherman guys – Tony I think I’m in Russia –“

There was a lot of shuffling and bangs. “I know, kiddie, we’re tracking you right now. Just stay calm, okay? You’re away from Richard?” He seemed to be all over the place. There were voices in the background, making orders, talking quickly.

“Y-y-yes –“

“Damn it, kid, I’m so proud of you. You hear me? I’m _so_ damn proud of you –“

He could feel himself beginning to panic. “Tony – you can’t – you can’t come here. They’re going to kill you. A lady told me –“

“Don’t worry about me, bud – of course I’m going to come for you –“

“But I _am_ worried. Please don’t, Tony – please don’t die –“

“Peter.” Tony’s voice was strong. Constant. “Take a deep breath.”

He listened. The cold overcame his lungs.

“Take another. I’m going to be all right. You’re going to be all right. Okay?”

Peter let out a whimper. Tony asked again. “I need you to say it. Okay?”

“O-okay –“

“All right. We just got your location – we’re on our – what the _hell_ , where even are you –“

“Where? Where am I?”

“Well shit, you’re actually not that far outside the states. You’re a bit off the coast of Alaska, in Russian waters. Ever heard of Wrangel Island?”

Peter looked around. Huh. So it _was_ an island. “No,”

“Me either. But the jet can get there in four hours. Hear that, kid? You’ve just gotta hold out for four hours.”

Four hours? He wouldn’t make it. They could start looking for him any second. “I – I don’t think I c-c-can,” his teeth chattered uncontrollably with cold. “I stick out like a sore thumb – they’ll find me –“

“Do you still have that bracelet on?”

“N-n-no –“

Tony’s voice was reassuring. “Then they can’t track you – _wait_ – how did you get it off?”

His body shook with tremors. “I broke my hand.”

There was a moment of silence on the line. Peter breathed heavily. The fisherman shifted uncomfortably on their feet. They looked nervous.

“Hell,” Tony said quietly. He sounded to be at a loss. “Well – well just hang on a little longer, yeah? You can do this, kiddo. Just hold on --”

“Tony, I don’t think I –“

“Yes you can,” He stated firmly. “You’ve made it this far – don’t let yourself quit now. You need to find a place to hide and stay there. Can you do that?”

Peter wiped his eyes. “Um – yes. Yes I can.”

Tony let out a breath. “Okay, good. I’m on the plane now. I’ll need to hang up, and you need to get rid of this phone so none of them can track you, all right?”

Panic filled Peter again. “What? You’re – you’re going? Tony –“

Tony’s voice was full of anguish – Peter could tell. “I’ve got to so they can’t find you. But I’ll be there so soon, kid – I promise –“

He didn’t want to hang up. It was too much, too scary. There were going to find him and –

_Don’t let your fear make you lose._

Right.

“Okay,” Some strength came back to Peter’s voice. “Okay – I’ll – I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes you will. Trust me.”

“I trust you.”

*

Flurries of emotions whirled inside of Tony’s body. He assembled the strongest, best fighter suit in its case and tried to mentally prepare himself. This could be huge. They had no idea how many men were waiting. They had no idea of their training.

Something could go really wrong.

He breathed through the nose. “Punch it Clint,” He ordered. The Avengers and SHEILD agents seemed subdued. Natasha wrung her hands nervously.

“Tony –“ she started carefully. “We – we’re going to need Steve. I know you feel –“

“No,” he retorted instantly. “We don’t need him.”

There was silence. Everyone looked at each other, yet avoided eye contact at the same time.

Bruce leaned forward and sighed. “We really need all the manpower we can –“

“No.” Tony’s tone was final. “Clint would you _fucking_ step on it? I promised the kid four hours –“

Clint’s hand paused for a minute on the controls. He whooshed out a breath. “Right.”

They were off.

*

Peter had taken a survival class with Ned once. They did it over the summer because they were bored, plus Ben and May were tired of Peter moping around the apartment.

It was a pretty fun time. They’d learned how to build a fire out of rocks and sticks. They learned about different kinds of plants and what they were used for. They even made little shelters and everything.

Yeah, fun. Except for it didn’t really teach him shit.

There was no fucking way to survive on this – Wrangel island, whatever it was called. Peter was sure of it. Everywhere he looked there was just snow and dirt and rock. Not a single plant or anything. Not even a hill to hide behind.

He limped on, hoping the fisherman didn’t get hurt because of him, hoping they hadn’t discovered him gone yet, hoping –

“Aye, Pete! Didn’t get too far, did ya?”

Peter stopped dead at the voices behind him. Something in him clenched at his heart.

His senses picked up on the heartbeats. One. Two. So two men behind him. The beats were fast, and the breathing quiet. So they weren’t directly behind him. They were a little ways away.

Being able to pick up on little things reminded him that he wasn’t old Peter anymore. His abilities were no longer blocked – he was himself again. Two guys – psh – he could take them in this sleep –

 _Except for you haven’t eaten in almost two days,_ A voice said in his head. _And you’re hurt. And, you’re weaker than normal. The bracelet probably weakened you – because nothing has really been healing –_

Regardless, he turned around, facing whoever had come for him.

They were both well over six foot, towering over Peter’s own five foot eight. Those metal rods that seemed to generate lightening were tight in their hands. Peter took a couple steps back.

“Oh – hey guys,” He tried to build some volume and throw them off a little. “I was just out for a little walk –“

Wasting no time, they rushed at him. Peter considered turning and running as fast as he could, but then he remembered his bum ankle. That, and the memory of him standing up to Steve flashed through his mind. If he could take Steve –

He ducked down to the ground right as they were about to knock into him. They tried to grab him – but his reflexes were too quick. He dodged each punch and roundhouse kicked one of them by standing on his good foot and kicking with the bad ankle. Steve had taught him how to do that –

The other man came up behind and tried to grab Peter, but he was stronger. He easily began to wiggle out of his grip when an agonizing electricity coursed through him.

It was like his entire body couldn’t function. His very muscles seized in breathtaking pain. He crumpled to the ground instantly. Laughter rang above him.

“You like that, little bitch?” one of them jeered. “Call Richard – this was too easy –“

The man jabbed the metal rod into Peter’s stomach again, sending more shocks straight through his bones, paralyzing him – torturing him. He writhed on the ground, screeching loudly, but it didn’t stop. It got more and more intense –

Through half lidded eyes he saw the expression on the other man’s face. “All right, dude –“ He looked a little uncomfortable. “I think he’s had enough –“

If possible, the intensity got even worse. Then it was gone. Laughter still pulsed in Peter’s ears. He laid on the icy ground, sobbing.

“Nah – not quite enough,” The man bent down and got in Peter’s face. “I’ll decide when he has –“

He pulled his fist back and slammed it over and over again into Peter’s stomach. He felt something snap and then pop inside of him. He was blinded. Then the man raised that rod – he was going to do it again – that pain wasn’t going to go away –

A memory flashed in his mind at the sight of the man’s face so close to his. That had happened to him before – Steve had done that – and Peter’s arms were free and he had –

Shooting upwards with his elbow jutting out, he smashed it into the man’s face as hard as he possibly could.

And he could swear, the resulting _crack_ echoed across the entire tundra.

The man couldn’t even cry out in pain, his jaw snapped and he was knocked unconscious immediately. Peter’s eyes flashed up to the other man, whose face conveyed shock. Peter pulled himself up and flew at him, narrowly avoiding another electric shock. Diving under the man’s weapon, Peter fell to his knees and pulled the man down by his legs. The force of the pull made the man drop and slam his head hard onto the rocky ground.

Blood poured from that one’s forehead – and blood from the other’s mouth. Peter stared at both of their limp forms, heaving. They both seemed to be out cold. He’d really done it.

At that point, it was almost as if his entire body seemed to give up. The weather also decided to be a shit at that moment, because white flakes decided to rain from the sky. Peter looked up into the gray clouds, his breath fogging in puffs, and throat feeling dry from frost.

A rather large rock caught his eye in the distance. It was so big that it created its own little crevice underneath it. He was small enough – if he could just get over there, he at least wouldn’t stick out so much.

He tried to stand up again, but after one step tripped over his own feet. His vision blurred. Looking down at his ankle, he realized that it was completely black now. Why wasn’t he healing?

Without much thought, he tried again on his hands and knees. Crawling across the ground, he made distance little by little. He must look pretty pathetic, but at least some progress was being made at this point. By the time he reached his little hiding spot, his head was swimming out of control and he felt seconds from losing consciousness.

He dragged himself underneath the rock, nearly weeping from exhaustion. A strange soggy feeling on his lower half surprised him for a moment. He looked down to see dark red beginning to spot around the blue of his pants. He placed his hand there, trying to tell where the blood was coming from. It was darkest by the seat of his pants.

What the hell?

No, like really, what the hell?

“Great,” He breathed to himself. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse – the universe somehow decides to make me give birth or – or something –“

The second his head hit the ground, the spots in his vision became larger.

_Tony smoothed the hair from his face. Peter shook violently with cold._

_“Don’t worry,” Tony said softly. “I’m here. I’m going to fix everything for you –“_

_Peter tried to look up at him, but couldn’t keep his head up. Tony placed a pillow underneath it, and a large quilted blanket over his body. Peter knew that blanket – he had it at the house – May had given it to him –_

_“You – you will?” Peter croaked. God, Tony was here – he looked so real – “You’ll – you’ll get rid of the cold?”_

_Tony nodded. “Of course.”_

_“And you’ll get me away from Richard?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“And – and you’ll take me home?”_

_“Course, kiddie,”_

_“And you’ll get me away from the media? And you’ll bring May back to life? And Ben? And you’ll figure out why I’m not happy and you’ll fix that?”_

_Tony’s touch seemed to generate warmth. “No problem, kiddo. I can do all that. No worries. Don’t worry.”_

_Tears froze on Peter’s face, despite the warmth Tony was giving. Was he really giving any though? Could he really do any of those things?_

_Sharp pain came to Peter’s mouth. He might have cried out for Tony to stop, to fix that –_

“Tony’s not coming,” The voice was harsh. It had hurt Peter before –

_Please let him come. Someone come._

“No one’s coming,” Richard’s voice whispered in his ear. He had a knife to Peter’s lips. Warm blood trickled down. “But I’m here – I’m here and you’re going to _suffer –“_

He’d been pulled from his hiding spot and was backed against the rock now, Richard kneeling in front of him. Peter flickered his eyes completely open, looking his father in the face.

There was no more strength in his body. He trembled from cold and the electric shocks. His hand was mangled, his ankle was on fire, his head throbbed, and there was a terrible pain in his stomach that felt like actual white hot rocks being pushed around. This was it. There wasn’t anything he could do anymore.

“Just kill me,” He gasped to Richard. “You have me here, I’m beat. Kill me.”

Richard’s face contorted into a grin. “You really want those to be your last words? Kill me? Choose wisely, son,”

Tears threatened to spill when Peter caught sight of the knife. Richard grabbed at Peter’s mouth and tried to force it open, but Peter would rather die – he’d rather have his whole head cut off –

While he struggled, a sharp noise began to sound in the distance. At first the men didn’t seem to notice, but then their human ears began to pick up the familiar zing. It was beautiful, almost like music to Peter’s ears.

The sound of jets.

But not the jets of the Avenger’s jet. No, these were faster ones, more portable ones.

“Shit!” One of Richard’s men cried out. They all looked up into the sky. A little patch of sunlight glinted off metal. “I think it’s Iron Man!”

They began to scramble. Richard gave a yell of fury. Peter smiled slightly and kept his eyes on sky. He glanced at Richard.

“You lose, asshole,” He informed his father. Because he really would lose. Even if Peter died here, which he probably would – Richard was still going to get his butt whooped. His jerk of a dad had it coming. “It’s _Iron Man,”_


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Here's a little something for you all.
> 
> Lots of cursing in this one, violence, sensitive topics. If that's a little much for you, maybe skip this one. 
> 
> Thanks for your comments :)

Richard was a quick-thinker – Tony had to give him that. The second he spotted the Iron Man suit in the sky he pressed Peter’s back against his stomach and held a knife tightly to the kid’s throat. Tony saw beads of blood begin to trickle there. Very carefully, he came closer to the ground, lifted up the faceplate, and held his hands in the air.

“All right, all right,” He had the Tony Stark persona on full blast. He knew Richard preyed on Tony’s fondness for Peter. It fascinated him in a strange way. If Tony displayed how worried he actually was about the kid, Richard would have the upper hand. “Let’s just all be civil here, huh?”

Peter’s eyes were forced up to the sky. He spluttered. Tony hated the sight of it. “I don’t think so, Stark. We had a deal, and you broke it. I told you I don’t bluff.”

“Right. We had a deal – _before_ my little genius there outsmarted you all. So let’s be _fucking_ civil here, okay? Because you do anything more to that kid and it’s over for every single one of you.”

Tony spoke with a heavy, non-negotiable tone. Peter tried to claw Richard’s arm away from choking him but he seemed to be too weak. His frame seemed smaller than usual and the color of his skin was an alarming gray color.

“Give him to me,” Tony reached an arm out. “You give him to me, nice and easy, and things will fare a lot better for you –“

“You’ll just have to kill me –“ Richard slid his knife a little. Tony could hardly watch. “I’d rather die than let him go.”

Suddenly there were a few sharp yelps and a couple loud bangs. Tony smirked at Richard and his throng of cronies. Men began to get knocked to the ground. Richard flipped around.

Natasha Romanoff came striding from behind the Hydra agents, a blazing look on her face. Clint Barton stood at her side, pelting arrows mercilessly. Nat wasted no time in flying right up to Richard and, catching him off guard with her expert speed, tackling him down to the ground with her legs. Working as a perfect team, Clint was there to pull Peter away in an instant.

“Kill you?” Natasha spat. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The agents were dumbfounded at the all-out war they had somehow found themselves in. They hadn’t been expecting the rest of the Avengers to fly up so silently in the jet and carefully emerge while Tony distracted everyone. It had given them the perfect advance in the battle. Scarlet Witch, Falcon, War Machine, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Vision were all fully fighting now along with dozens on SHIELD agents. Clint rushed to pick Peter up like a baby and lift him up towards Tony, who took him gratefully.

It was as if the battle went silent and the snowfall grew loud when Tony was able to hold Peter again. They looked right in each other’s faces, taking in their states. Peter trembled a little, but also looked over the moon, those eyes shining.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Tony wanted to squeeze the living daylights out of the kid and tuck him in bed for ten years. But they just so happened to be floating a few feet above a nasty looking fight that Peter needed to be evacuated from.

“I told you I’d be here,” Tony let him know. “I told you –“

Tony stuck with their plan and shot up further into the air, getting Peter far from the fight and to the jet. That was his job. He was Peter’s parent. Let the others fight – Tony was to keep Peter safe.

He landed at the side of the jet, feeling déjà vu at doing the same thing with Peter in his arms just a few months ago. Punching in all of the outer security features was quick, as was getting through the doorway.

“All right, buddy,” Tony said gently, setting Peter down so he could disengage from the suit. The boy felt like ice. “We’re just going to hole up in here for a bit. You’re okay now – you’re okay –“

Once out of the metal suit, he was finally able to be warm towards the kid in the way he had been wanting to. Pete was an absolute mess – with blood streaming down his neck and all over his face. His silly pajamas were coated in mud and tattered all over the place. His hand was an array of bruised colors and completely mangled.

Tony moved Peter slightly so he could sit beside him. Peter turned towards Tony instantly, curling into him and _dammit_ did Tony just want to cling and never let go.

“I’m f-f-freezing,” Peter shuddered. “I’m so cold.”

Tony wrapped both of his arms completely around Peter. “You’ll warm up soon kiddo –“

Peter’s shivers grew stronger. “ _So_ cold –“

“You’re okay, Peter,” Tony soothed, almost like a mantra. “I’ve got you now, we’re going to go home soon –“

Peter was gasping a little and at first Tony thought he’d begun crying. But when he looked, it seemed more like he was having a difficult time breathing.

“I missed you,” Peter struggled to say. “I – I missed you so much –“

“I missed you too bud. You okay? What’s hurting?”

There was some panic brewing in Peter’s eyes. “Um – my stomach, really bad. I think something’s wrong –“

“What’s wrong? Hurting how?”

Peter was shivering heavily now. Tony wished he’d worn a coat under the suit. “Pr-promise y-y-you won’t laugh?”

Tony was bewildered. “Laugh? At what?”

The kid looked completely miserable. His poor ruined chin shook. “Um – I think I’m bleeding –“ His face flushed a little pink. He lifted himself up a little to talk in Tony’s ear. “I might be bleeding from – uh, you know –“

He looked down and Tony’s panicked eyes followed. What had looked like dirt, Tony realized was actually dried blood all around Peter’s inner thighs. Horror gripped Tony as he turned the kid over to see the same brownish stains on the backside.

What did those fuckers _do?_

Tony saw red. He could kill every single one of those guys out there at not feel a single thing if this was true – if this really happened –

“Peter –“ Tony gasped. “Did they – did someone –“

He couldn’t say it. It was revolting, sickening, nauseating. If one of them had taken advantage of this kid things just became a thousand times worse for everyone.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh! N-n-no, not that – god – no I don’t know what it is. I got punched in my stomach a lot that’s what I think –“

A shred of relief. “They didn’t touch you?”

“Christ, Tony, no. I thought this was awkward enough –“

“Would you tell me if they did?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Tony gazed at Peter’s expression and felt confident that he was being honest. He ran a hand over his hair, trying to calm himself against what could have been.

“All right buddy, you’re probably hurt somewhere inside – it’ll be all right. Let me take a look at your stomach –“

There was a sudden screeching over Tony’s headpiece. Peter winced at the noise, hearing it more than a normal person.

“We’ve lost Richard!” came Natasha’s irritated voice in Tony’s ear.

Damn it. “You’ve got to be _fucking_ me,” Tony seethed. “How did you lose him?!”

“He’s like a fucking snake!” Clint called. “He slinks away somehow – I don’t know –“

“Find him. You find him and take him out. We do not leave here without that,” Tony ordered.

“I had sights on him,” Rhodey’s voice came in. “I think he might have gone underground somewhere, because his facial scans became all muddy –“

“Keep on him Rhodey,” Tony said. “I’ll – I’ll –“

He looked down at Peter. Peter – who was beaten to hell, bleeding internally, freezing, scared, traumatized – and he couldn’t figure out which was more important. Taking care of his kid in this exact moment, or tracking down his kidnapper and being certain that nothing like this could ever happen again.

Peter with all his perceptive cleverness seemed to read Tony’s thoughts. “Go,” Peter said faintly. “I’ll be all right. Go find him.”

“I’m not going to leave you right now, Peter –“

“I want you to,” Peter said desperately. “I _want_ you to find him. Cause – cause I can’t kill him, I can’t –  and he won’t stop unless – unless –“

“I know,” Tony continued to hold on tight. “I know, kiddo, but someone else can –“

“They won’t find him like you will,” Peter’s voice shook. “No one will make sure like you will. Please – Tony – I – I want it to be over –“

A surge of protectiveness overcame Tony then. Damnit, damnit. “Okay,” He needed to be quick. Richard was on the move – he could be anywhere by now. He untangled himself from Peter. “Okay – you stay right here, you understand me? I will be back for you, just –“

“I will,” Peter said, his throat sounding scratchy. “I promise.”

Tony stood up, holding out his hands for the suit to reattach itself. “All right,” He stepped forward and quickly kissed the top of Peter’s head. “You stay here.”

Unable to look at Peter’s face watch him go, Tony turned on the security systems and burst out the door, determined to end this once and for all.

*

“I’ve been trying to follow him for a while,” Rhodey updated Tony once he caught up with his friend. “Your systems are much better – I bet you’ll be able to –“

Tony looked down at the ground he was flying above. “FRIDAY, scan for Richard Parker,”

“Will do.”

Tony watched the images play before his face, checking and searching for Parker. Within seconds, heat signals came up. Rhodey was right – they were muddy because Richard was underneath the ground.

“He’s down there in what seem to be some tunnels,” Tony said. “On three we send a blast into the ground right –“ He sent Rhodey some coordinates. “There!”

“Got it.”

“Okay. One, two, three!”

The two suits together delivered an intense blast into the frozen ground, creating a booming explosion. Large mounds of rock cracked apart and fell into the ground, creating a large hole. FRIDAY had been right – there were tunnels underneath.

“He’s headed to the left,” Tony said, repeating FRIDAY’s directions. “Let’s go.”

They flew in through the tunnel together, twisting and turning from top to bottom, covering every area. FRIDAY related her data to Tony, informing him that they were getting closer and closer –

“Hey Parker!” Tony called out, spotting Peter’s father. “Looks like your luck finally ran out, asshole –“

He pushed the jets and flew around in front of Richard, stopping him in his tracks. Much to Tony’s dismay, the man didn’t look much taken aback. He only had a furious look on his face – one that wanted murder.

“Making some grand entrance, Stark?” Richard spat. “Cause that’s all you really know how to do? You fake your persona – fake your big fancy entrances, thinking it will intimidate people. Well you know what, you fucker? I don’t give a shit, because you don’t scare me. I know you’re all an act.”

Tony upped the faceplate, bearing down onto Richard’s face. He looked long and hard at the man that had caused so much unneeded pain to the little family he’d found. Finally, all the white-hot fury that he had been pushing down and down for Peter’s sake could be rightfully quenched now.

“Oh shut up, Parker.” Tony’s voice was loud and echoed down the dim tunnel. Rhodey stood behind Richard, supporting Tony. “You’re talking to _me_ about fake? You don’t even know what the _hell_ you are. But I do. You’re just a sadistic bastard that knows he’s touched in the head but lets it go uncensored.”

“Hell yeah I do,” Richard was getting that nasty grin back on his face. “Especially with that precious Peter that Tony Stark just _adores.”_ Richard took a step closer, igniting his lightning rod. “He’s not much is he? Just a stupid little bitch that came from a whore – and you can see it too –“

Tony was done. He crossed the space between them in a moment and delivered a right hook so intense to Richard’s face that the jaw crackled into tiny pieces instantly. The fire inside of Tony just raged on, however, even when the force of the punch sent Richard slamming into the wall.

Laughter came from Richard’s mouth. Rhodey yanked the weapon from his hand. “Why don’t you come out of that suit and fight me like a man?” Richard spat out some blood as he said it. “Come on, have a fair fight –“

Tony stood over Richard. “Oh, I absolutely would, Parker,” He delivered a swift kick to Richard’s ribs and relished the snap of bones. “If you’d played fair with my kiddo. But you didn’t. You took a teenage boy that is basically the _perfect_ child and manipulated him, tormented him, beat him – so no. We’re not playing fair here –“

He kicked again, then punched until the metal was spotted with blood. He lost count of how many punches he pounded out. He could feel himself losing it, but he couldn’t stop. Parker kept laughing, sounding completely unhinged. It was a chilling, maniacal sound.

“Laugh on, Parker,” Tony seethed. “It’s not real laughter. You don’t know real laughter – and you’ll never know what you missed out on. With Peter. You could’ve had him – he could’ve been your son and you could’ve been happy. You _poor_ motherfucker –“

Richard’s laughter died a little, and blood poured from his mouth. “Well no one’s gonna have him now. You’ll see Stark – you’re gonna lose your stupid fucking happiness pretty soon –“

Tony hated the fear that bubbled in his stomach because of the guy. Because Richard was so physically destroyed, Tony felt it was good to come out of the suit now. He knelt in front of Richard.

“What are you talking about?” Tony whispered, whirling with anger. “Tell me _now –“_

Richard smiled. Blood coated his teeth. Tony smacked him in the face multiple times with his now bare fist. Richard’s face was almost unrecognizable at this point.

“TELL ME!”

His voiced bounced in the tunnel. Richard cackled. “Looks like you got me too hard in the ribs, Stark –“ Richard was hardly breathing at this point, his words coming out breathy and lips turning blue. “A lung’s failing – I won’t live long enough to tell you –“

Tony looked up at Rhodey desperately. Rhodey looked alarmingly calm. “Tell us, Richard,” He spoke carefully. “And we’ll take you to our best doctors – you’ll make it –“

Richard spat in Rhodey’s direction. “I actually like this situation better – I’ll give you a hint though,”

Tony shook his head, nearly bursting. “You’re in no position for bargains here –“

“Oh – I think I am –“ Richard’s face was completely bloodless now. He probably had only minutes left. “I’ll just leave you with a little torment. I’ll predict that Peter will be dead in the next five years –“

Tony almost scoffed. “Oh, you think?”

“I’m practically certain. And here’s your kicker – his murderer? It’ll be _him._ I’ve ensured that.”

Horror washed over Tony. What was he talking about – what the hell?! He gripped Richard by the shoulders. His control was gone now.

“What are you talking about?” Shake. “Parker, tell me!”

Richard was wheezing out chuckles. “I’ve ensured it – you’ll see – little brat shouldn’t have been such a little shit to me – I told you I don’t bluff –“

“Fuck you, Parker – you piece of –“

But Tony didn’t get to finish his final insult to Richard Parker, because just seconds after, Peter’s father slumped over, bloodshot eyes still open. Tony shook him again and again but Richard didn’t respond anymore. He heard Rhodey depart from his suit.

“He’s dead, Tony,” Rhodey said in a tough voice. “Come on man,” He placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s dead. Don’t let him torment you any more –“

Tony’s hands shook spastically. “But – but – what did he mean?” He glanced at Rhodey. “What was he talking about?”

“He probably thinks Peter will crack up someday – Tony – he was just trying to scare you –“

“You – you think?”

“We’ll keep an eye on him. But yes, I really do think – hey, man, come on don’t –“

Tony guessed he looked like he was hyperventilating a little because hey – maybe he was. Maybe this was all a little too much for him and he was so scared and – and –

He buried his face in his hands and let himself have the luxury of crying for a whole five minutes. Rhodey’s hand didn’t move from his shoulder.

*

Peter had tried to listen to Tony – he really had. But he’d been sitting right by the window, and well, lots of the fight was going on right out there. At first, Peter didn’t feel like he needed to worry much – especially when the Hulk showed up, taking out everything in his path. But once his eyes caught sight of a familiar woman getting beaten down by Natasha, he somehow found himself outside.

It was the pretty lady that had gotten Peter to this point. She’d given him the information, had saved Tony. Peter didn’t know her – he didn’t know how she got mixed up with HYRDRA, but he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she hadn’t meant to – maybe she wanted to quit and couldn’t. Why else had she helped Peter? She had to be good somehow, and didn’t deserve to get beat down by Nat.

The two women were fighting out on the ice that covered the sea. Peter saw Natasha’s strategy – she was backing the woman further and further back, until she was yards from Natasha in an attempt to escape. Unfortunately, that also left her out on thin ice, resulting in a loud snap.

Panic filled the woman’s eyes – she knew she’d gone too far out. “No!” Peter cried out, limping towards them with strange strength. “Wait – Nat!”

Natasha whirled around, her face surprised. “Peter –“ Her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you --?”

He slid past her, too much in a rush to explain himself because the ice was cracking, and the woman shook – unable to move for chance of making it worse. Natasha tried to reach out for him, but he was too quick. That, and someone else had come up behind them and was fighting Natasha aggressively.

Sliding out onto the ice, Peter gripped the woman’s upper arm, picked her up, and actually threw her a few yards to safety. That probably sprained her somehow – but at least she wouldn’t freeze to death in the water –

And at that thought, Peter’s world turned into heart-stopping darkness.

It took him a moment to register the all-consuming pain of needles on every inch of his body. Where had the pain come from – why couldn’t he see --?

Then he realized.

He’d fallen through the ice.

He’d fallen, and Natasha was fighting – everyone else was fighting. No one would be able to save him, and he didn’t even know which way was up. He didn’t think he could breathe –

He almost didn’t register strong arms pulling him up, but his heightened senses must have caught it somehow. The cold was forefront in his mind, but something else said that Clint or Sam must have come. They felt like men’s arms. Maybe one of them had pulled away from their fight.

“Come on, Peter,” A voice said. “Breathe, kid –“

Peter knew that voice. Someone was cradling him, thumping his back hard. “Breathe – breathe –“

He struggled for a bit, but was ultimately able to flicker his eyes open. The face of this savior came as a surprise, but not a bad one. Not at all.

He clutched at the man’s shirt and coughed up some bloody water. “Steve,” He spluttered.

Steve’s face was full of anguish. He touched the side of Peter’s face. “Aw, Peter –“

Peter gripped onto Steve, desperate for warmth. “I’m – I’m g-g-glad to s-s-see you –“

Steve stood up and began running back towards the jet. “Well, kid – you’d be the only one here to feel that way.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter one this time. I just felt like this was all there was to say for this one...

Peter had never felt this lack of control before. The freezing water seemed to seep directly into his bones and destroyed all ability to move. He clutched at Steve, even when they returned to the jet. His arms were so tightly wrapped around him that Steve had to pry him off once inside.

“Come on, Pete,” Cap said, pulling him arms away. “We have to get you out of your wet things – it’ll help –“

What? He was going to take off his clothes and make him even _colder?_ “N-n-n-no –“ He tried to protest. Steve reached for the zipper on his hoodie. “D-d-d-don’t –“

“I have to, Peter –“

“What in the _hell_?”

Peter tried to whip his head up because he knew that voice – but his head wouldn’t respond. “T-t-tony –“ He whimpered.

Tony came stomping down the aisle of the jet. “Leave it to you, Rogers. What the fuck have you done now?”

Steve held his hands out, still kneeling beside Peter. “He just fell through the ice, so I pulled him out. That’s the only reason I got involved –“

“You’ve gotta be _shitting_ me –“ Tony pushed Steve away from Peter and crouched down. “Get out of here, Rogers. Get. Out.”

Why was Tony so mad? Steve had saved him – Tony just didn’t understand. “T-t-t-tony – he – he – h-h-helped –“

Tony quickly began stripping Peter from his wet clothes. Peter felt nearly out of his mind with pain and stinging ice. Somehow a couple sobs escaped his throat even though he was trying to be tough. They weren’t exactly voluntary.

“Shh, kid, it’s all right,” Tony smoothed Peter’s hair back. Peter sat trembling in his boxers now, feeling like complete shit. His body was shaking so violently it was hitting into things. Tony wrapped his arms around him. “Why isn’t anyone getting me a blanket?!” He called out desperately. “Also fucking Cap better be out of this plane.”

“He is,” Bruce expressed softly, bending down and handing Tony a blanket. Peter almost cried at the relief of something thick and dry wrapping around his shoulders.

“Good. Then get us out of here. Let the SHIELD agents clean everything up.”

“They will,” Clint answered. “Nat stayed back with them.”

Tony sat Peter against his chest and rubbed up and down his arms. Peter looked up at him, as if pleading for help. Tony’s face looked vividly devastated.

A sharp stab in Peter’s stomach almost had him screaming. “Shit,” He rasped. A few choking noises came out. He coughed out a wet sounding splutter, resulting in red splats.

Tony wiped some of the blood from Peter’s chin. “Damn it – Bruce!”

Bruce was up and rushing around. “Pick him up and bring him over here.”

Tony did so, causing Peter to cry out at the jostling movement. “Sorry kiddo,”

They placed Peter on a plastic table that pulled down from the plane’s wall. Peter felt like he was in a haze, not really knowing who was who or where –

“Tony –“ He pleaded, reaching his hand out. A larger, rougher hand enclosed his. “Where – where –“

“I’m here, Pete –“ Tony’s voice was kind, warm. Peter strained his head to see him, but someone held it in place. “Bruce,” Tony voiced fearfully. “Anything?”

Bruce sounded nervous and tired. “I’m calling into a local hospital right now – they’ll be waiting for him –“

“We can’t take him to some public hospital, the media will –“

“HIPPA, Tony, don’t forget HIPPA,” Out of the corner of Peter’s eye, he saw Bruce dialing the phone. “They won’t give anything away – yes, hello! I’ve got an emergency patient coming in to you guys right now, I just need you to be ready –“

“Tony,” What was going on? Where were they going? Was he dying? He felt like it. He was probably going to die here on this plane. If he was going to die – he at least wanted Tony with him.

“I’m here, buddy, hey – Peter, I’m here –“ There was a hand on his face. “I’m not going to leave you –“

Bruce’s voice came through again. “Yeah we’ve got some very severe abdominal bruising, and rectal bleeding along with that. How long? A couple hours. Yes, broken ribs. There’s some blood in his saliva as well. Probable concussion, severe stages of hypothermia. Multiple breaks to his hand –“

“God, I can’t listen –“ That was Tony. Peter turned himself and finally saw him then. Tony knelt right beside the table Peter was curled on.

“You’re here,” Peter tried to even whisper. Hadn’t Tony always been here though? He couldn’t remember. “Tony –“

“Shh, you’ll be okay –“ Tony’s face was shining with something. Was it water? Was he crying? Why was Tony crying?

His stomach erupted in agony again. This time Peter screamed. God, he really was going to die. He had to – had to tell Tony –

“H-h-h-hey –“ Peter tried to get out. “I’ve – I’ve gotta tell you – tell you –“

“What’s that kiddo?”

He had to know. Tony had tried so hard, had done so much. He probably was going to feel terrible, but this really wasn’t his fault. He had no idea Richard was going to pop into Peter’s life and be some psycho. Tony had done everything for Peter, had stood up for him, taken him in, been so loving. He needed to know –

“Thank you,” He took in a shuddering breath. “J-j-just wanna say thank you,”

“No, no, Pete – stay awake. Don’t thank me, just keep your eyes open.”

He wasn’t finished though. “I want to though –“

“Peter –“ More water came on Tony’s face.

Peter’s lips trembled. Some more blood spilled out. Blood also trickled over the side of the table. “You’re a – you’re a _good_ father,”

Tony let out a small sob then, resting his forehead against the table. “God – please – Bruce _do_ something!”

“I’m working on it, Tony. Keep talking to him, tell him –“

Tony ran a hand over Peter’s hair. “I’ve loved being your father, you hear me Peter? I’ve loved it so much – I can never even tell you –“

Peter hated how much Tony was crying. Was he really going to miss Peter this much when he died?

“Don’t say that – please don’t. You don’t know how much I’ll miss you. I’ll never stop – god, just stay awake okay? Don’t leave me – don’t let me be like that freaking Alexander guy –“

Alexander?

Oh yeah. Peter loved that song.

“D-d-don’t be like him,” Peter said to the ceiling. “—you would like it uptown, it’s quiet uptown –“

The spots of black in his vision grew abruptly. His breathing became obstructed. The pain receded a little. At least dying wouldn’t get _more_ painful.

It was actually kind of nice.

 _Are you_ happy, _Peter?_

As much as he hated it – he almost was.

*

_It was cold. But the good kind of cold. The kind that was amazingly still and whooshed into your lungs. Tony was prepared – he had the works. Heated sleeping bags, heated coats, hats, gloves, thermoses filled with coffee. All for him and Peter, because how was the kid going to enjoy a starry night in Norway if he was freezing?_

_The two were bundled up on a cliff side overlooking the sea. Waves crashed in a melodic way and the sky was matte black, sprinkled with thousands of stars. Peter loved stars and he loved the ocean. Tony had pulled him out of school just to make him a little happier._

_“Another one!” Peter said excitedly, pointing out the sky. They must have seen at least a dozen shooting stars by now, but Peter still pointed out every one. He was easy to please._

_Tony grinned. “Nice. See this star right here?” He showed Peter a map. The kid nodded. “Okay, find it in the sky and put your finger on it.”_

_Peter did so, and Tony took his wrist, guiding it to each star. He traced Ursa Major with the boy’s hand, as if each star was his own._

_“There,” Tony said. “It’s like you’re creating the stars.”_

_Peter’s eyes shone. His breath came out in foggy puffs that dissolved into the inky air. “That’s like_ magic _,”_

_Tony chuckled a little. “Or I just know my constellations really well,”_

_“Why do you know so much about stars?”_

_“Because they’re cool. A bunch of giant burning orbs of gas in space? That’s sick.”_

_“And magic.” Peter breathed._

_Tony rolled his eyes. “Sure, that too.”_

_Peter giggled. He was silent for a second and then said, “I love this place.”_

_Something funny leapt in Tony’s heart. “Yeah?”_

_“Yeah,” Peter craned his neck up to the sky. “I do.”_

_“More than California?”_

_“Well, I can swim there. Plus that’s the first trip we went on, so that will probably always be my favorite. But this is a close second.”_

_Tony glanced at Peter fondly. “Well, then I’m glad.” He let out a small sigh. “You’re a good kid, Peter.”_

_Peter turned his head, looking at Tony. “Why do you always tell me that?”_

_“Manners, kiddie. Say thanks first.”_

_Peter squinted his eyes at Tony. “Thanks.”_

_“You’re very welcome.”_

_“Stop being lame. Why?”_

_Tony shrugged. “Because it’s true.”_

_“But you say it at the most random times. Why?”_

_“Damn, teenagers and the word ‘why’,” Tony nudged Peter. “I’m going to ban that word.”_

_Peter just gave Tony a half exasperated, half humored look. Tony shook his head with a smile and let out a little breath._

_“It really is because I just think you’re really great. And when we’re doing fun things, having fun times I like to remind you. Because you deserve good things.”_

_Peter looked away from Tony, down at his hands, and scrunched his eyebrows together. “I –_ deserve _good things?” The kid looked a little confused. “Oh.”_

_Tony was taken aback. “Just oh?”_

_“Yeah,” Peter said softly. He looked back up at the stars._

_“It’s true kid,” Tony told him gently. “You deserve to be happy.”_

*

Peter looked dead. Peter might be dead. Was he dead? His skin was completely white, blood coated his mouth and legs, scars covered his body. This is what happened when Tony was entrusted with a child. He’d let his own kid break.

“Tony!” Bruce shook his out of his stupor. “Get it together! We’re landing – help me get him on the backboard and off the plane. Medical is waiting for us.”

Tony licked his dry lips. “Is he – is – is –“

“He’s gonna be if you give up on him. Don’t give up.”

Give up on Peter? Of course he wouldn’t do that. Tony shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts, wiped his face, and stood up with Bruce. Peter’s blood was all over his clothes.

“I’ll hold his legs as we land. You hold his head.” Bruce ordered. Tony nodded shakily and latched his hands on both sides of Peter’s face, keeping him still. The kid’s skin felt like ice. His feet almost slipped on the blood that had poured all over the floor. It was a gruesome sight.

The landing was a little bumpy. Tony winced as Peter jostled a little, but the kid made no more cries of pain. He was completely unresponsive.

The others cleared a path so Tony and Bruce could race Peter off the plane. Tony felt in a daze as he loaded the backboard down the stairs and into the arms of the waiting people. Was this really happening?

Tony raced along, even though he wasn’t the one carrying Peter anymore. He could hear Bruce shouting to everyone breathlessly.

“He’s ruptured something – that’s the main source of the problem,” Bruce said. Tony spared a glance at Peter’s stomach, which was now exposed as the blanket was ripped off. It was completely caved in unnaturally, the ribs looking like valleys. Vomit rose in Tony’s mouth, but he spit it out so he could keep moving.

“Body temperature is unusually low –“ one doctor stated. “How much blood do you think he’s lost?”

“I can’t know for sure – over two pins at least. He has a healing factor – if we can just get that to start working things should get better –“

“A healing factor?” The doctor looked confused. “What –“

“Don’t ask questions. He hasn’t eaten or slept in days, he’s freezing, and he’s lost a lot of blood. All those things are ruining his healing –“

“All right well we can just –“

Tony was finding it harder to keep up. He felt like he was suffocating. Every glance at Peter made things worse because there was no way that kid laying down looked alive. He was going to lose him – the kid would never look alive again –

The warm air that rushed in when they burst through the hospital doors did nothing to help Tony. He felt like he’d be cold forever. They rushed Peter into an emergency room and instantly began hooking him up to wires and tubes. Everyone was shouting over each other.

Two nurses standing in front of Tony looked at each other. One leaned over and whispered to the other, “This kid is going to die.”

Tony stumbled back a little, standing on the outskirts of the chaos. He wasn’t getting enough air – not enough air. Someone called his name.

“Tony!” Bruce’s voice screeched. Tony had never seen Bruce get this flustered with him before. “Did you hear me?”

With wide eyes, Tony just shook his head a little.

“His blood type. What’s Peter’s blood type?”

Tony blinked. Oh. “O negative.”

One doctor sighed. “Of course it is.”

Someone came up behind Tony and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he looked he saw it was Rhodey. They exchanged a worried glance and then turned their eyes back to the doctors that were working over Peter.

“We need some blood now,” A doctor ordered. “His heart is slowing down!”

“Did we find the source of the rupture?”

“We’re low on O negative –“

“Bring out the paddles –“

Tony watched with bated breath as the heart monitor connected to Peter began to beep slower and slower. Even with all the noise and shouting all around him, those beeps came the loudest. They seemed to pierce through Tony’s bran, stab him, mock him.

 _Please keep beeping,_ Tony thought in agony. _Please don’t stop. Please let his heart stay beating._

He pleaded and begged. Just for one ounce of luck.

But then again, when had the universe ever helped him when it came to luck?


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang I am just pumping these out. Some give me a freaking medal...

_They bury him in Queens. Right next to his aunt and uncle. All three members of the small Parker family, gone in unfortunate ways, and all too soon._

_He wasn’t invited to the funeral, and honestly, he didn’t really argue. If he was Tony, he wouldn’t have given Steve an invite either._

_But he couldn’t not go, so he threw on a disguise and watched from the outskirts. It was a small service. Tony wept the entire time and was inconsolable. His sobs could be heard across the cemetery._

_Peter’s two little friends were there. They skipped school that day. His funeral was the day school started again. He would’ve been a junior. He didn’t even make to his_ junior year.

_Steve cried when they began to lower him. He didn’t even get to see Peter in the open casket. He didn’t think he would have been able to stomach it, but still. Maybe it would have given him some more closure._

_Tony fell to his knees once the casket was no longer in arm’s reach. His entire body shook. Steve knew this was it for him. There would be no recovering Tony from Peter’s death. He wouldn’t be able to bounce back. Stark Industries would go to someone else. The Iron Man suit would be put away._

_He forced himself to turn away from the hideous scene. The scene he’d caused. Because it was all his fault. If he hadn’t pushed Peter so hard, if he hadn’t told him to go back out as Spiderman – he’d be here right now. Those were just the facts. Peter could be right here if it wasn’t for Steve._

_He could hear a song somewhere. Peter listened to it sometimes, and lately so did Tony. It chimed familiar lyrics that caught Steve right in the gut. God he hated this song – this painful, too-relatable song._

_‘Look at where we are – look at where we started –‘_

_Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to find whoever wrote ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’ and punch them in the face._

_‘If I could spare his life, if I could trade his life for mine –‘_

_Damn, Steve would give anything._

_‘He’d be standing here right now, and you would smile, and that would be enough –‘_

_But Peter wasn’t here. He was dead. And the song played over and over and over and –_

Steve jerked awake, heaving. The song ceased, it having been only in his dream. He’d been slumped painfully in a plastic chair against the window. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he looked around wearily.

Oh right. He was still in the hospital. In Alaska. They’d flown over the Russian border to take Peter to the hospital. Damn. The last few hours of his life had been insane…

He looked down at his front, which was still covered in dried blood. He should probably change sometime soon. Shaking his head, he tried to remember what had happened.

Peter. Peter died? But he was okay now. He was okay because –

His eye caught sight of the bandage in the crook of his arm. He remembered. Some of it was because of him.

They’d been scrambling for blood right when they brought Pete in. Steve had followed close behind in his own plane after the others took off, unable to be out of the loop of Peter’s condition.

When he’d crept into the emergency room, it had been a hellish scene. Peter’s heart was stopping, Tony was shaking in the corner, Bruce was desperately shouting orders.

And then someone called for O negative blood.

His heart pounded a little. He was scared of frustrating Tony even more, but what else could he do? Just stand there and let his conveniently O negative blood go to waste?

So he spoke up.

“I’m O negative,” He voiced quietly. A dozen heads whipped around in his direction. Tony squinted his eyes at him incredulously.

Bruce paused, and then looked over at Tony, almost as if he was asking Peter’s guardian for permission.

Tony seemed to be in shock for a moment. He just gazed at Cap, and then flung out his hand in a defeated motion.

“Whatever,” Tony said. His face was puffy. “Hurry up, Bruce. Use him.”

Steve was ushered forward quickly, and within seconds there was a needle in his arm pumping out blood into Peter’s body. His eyes watched the red flow desperately, hoping they still had time –

Peter’s heart rate was still terribly slow. The head doctor shook his head. “It might be too late –“

“It isn’t,” That was Bruce.

But he wasn’t completely right, because at that moment, the heart monitor beeped one loud streak. Tony, in the corner, sank to the floor.

“No,” Bruce said forcefully. “Give me the paddles.”

The doctor did so, and with Steve’s blood still flowing, Bruce pumped Peter’s chest one, two, three times. They waited for a moment, hoping it had worked.

“Come on,” Steve whispered, staring at the screen. “Come on, Pete, please –“

Then, like a movie miracle, the machine began ringing out beeps again. Bruce grinned. “There ya go kid, come on. Keep it up, don’t leave Tony like this –“

“Can he hear you?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Probably not,” Bruce said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “But it couldn’t hurt to try.”

Blood continued to pump into Peter’s veins, strengthening him, rejuvenating him. A small tinge of pink appeared on the tips of the kid’s cheeks. Bruce and the doctor somehow cauterized the rectal bleeding – which – _ow._ Steve hoped Peter was completely out so he didn’t have to feel that. They did it to buy themselves some time until they could actually go in and fix Peter’s stomach.

Tony looked on hopefully. Peter’s heart sounded more normal now. Some of the lines on Bruce’s and all the doctor’s faces began to smooth.

“All right,” Bruce stated. “He’d more stable now. We can take him into surgery.” He reached over and unhooked Steve from the IV. “Stay close by Steve, okay?”

Steve nodded quickly. “Of course.”

And so he’d found a spot near where they were performing the surgery. In a plastic white chair, which was where he’d apparently passed out for a few hours. He looked down at his watch. It was three hours since they’d taken Peter in. Was he out now? Would they need him? Was he out of the woods?

The pit that had formed in his stomach the moment Peter was kidnapped remained.

                                                                                                       *

“You look like absolute shit.”

Tony glanced up from where he was curled up, legs to chest, on the floor. Clint stood above him, in a fresh pair of pants and a long sleeved t-shit. Tony was still in the clothes he’d fought in, blood coating his hands.

“Always nice to see ya, Clint,” Tony groaned.

Clint looked up and down the blindingly white hallway. “What are you doing on the floor? There’s couches you could go rest on –“

Tony pointed to the double doors next to him. “Peter is in there for surgery. I want to be here when they come out.”

“Oh,” Clint tilted his head to the side, as if he was considering Tony. “I get it. I’m a dad too.”

“Right.”

Clint turned and slid down the wall beside Tony. “How long have they been working on him?”

“Eight hours.” Tony’s hands still shook a little. He felt like he was still in shock. Clint eyed him somewhat worriedly.

“He’ll be all right.”

“You didn’t see him,” Tony croaked. “It was like there was no blood in his body. Even his lips were white.” His chin trembled at the memory. “You didn’t _see_ –“

They sat in silence after, having not much more to say. Clint obviously felt it was best to leave Tony in silence, because the minutes ticked on until another half hour passed.

Tony was startled out of the silence when the double doors were pushed open. He sprung up from his seat instantly and rushed over. Peter was being wheeled out into the hallway by a couple nurses. A disheveled looking Bruce followed close behind. Tony hurried along Peter’s unconscious form and looked back at Bruce.

“You guys are done?” Tony asked almost spastically. “How did it go? What happened? Is he going to be okay?” He paused for a breath but it wouldn’t come in. “Did you guys fix everything? Will he – ?”

Bruce held up a hand, leaned back against the wall, and shut his eyes. Tony paused in his tracks, wanting to follow after Peter, but wanting information on his condition as well.

“Come over here for a second,” Bruce gestured to Tony.

Tony glanced down the hall where Peter was being wheeled away. “Where are they taking him?”

“To his room. He’s going to be fine. Could you come here please?”

Confused, Tony walked over beside Bruce. “Lean against the wall,” he ordered. Tony did. “Take a deep breath.”

“What the hell Bruce? Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“Of course I am. But you need to take a breath. You look _really_ bad, Tony.”

“And you’re getting on my nerves. Talk to me.”

Bruce shot him a withering look and took a draw through the nose. “He experienced a blunt force rupture to his spleen and one kidney. His stomach also partially ruptured, which means he must have _really_ gotten hit hard because the stomach is a hollow organ – it takes a lot of rupture it. The other two are solid organs so it’s not as much of a surprise –“

“They’re completely ruptured?” Tony interrupted.

“The stomach isn’t completely. But the other two, yes. That explains why he was bleeding so much –“

“How on earth did you –“

“A person can live without a spleen,” Bruce explained patiently. “And they can live with one kidney. We were able to staple his stomach back together,”

Tony winced. “You _stapled_ it?”

Bruce nodded. “He’s actually looking pretty good. We put him into a medicated sleep and have been giving him fluids and vitamins. His healing factor is kicking back into gear. He’ll probably even re-grow those ruptured organs –“

Tony felt lightheaded. Was it really true? Had Bruce actually said those words? “He looks good?” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “He’s going to be okay?”

Bruce smiled softly at Tony, looking empathetic. “It looks like it. You can worry a lot less now. Why don’t you –“

But Tony couldn’t hear so well anymore. He couldn’t believe it. He wanted to bawl, he wanted to jump, he wanted the scream because everything might really work out. Peter could be all right – he could take him home –

It was as if all the painful adrenaline that had been coursing through his body spilled out within seconds. His knees felt wobbly.

“I –“ He didn’t know what he was feeling. His body wanted to go and hurry after Peter, to be right there when he woke up.

“Tony,” Bruce’s voice came again. “Come on, come sit down –“

Instead, Tony fell forward, face first onto the hard tile floor.

*

“ _Tony!_ ” A familiar voice said, hushed. Tony knew that voice. He loved that voice. “Hey, Tony!”

Peter?

“Wake up!”

Peter! Why was he asleep if Peter was here? Who’d put him to sleep?

He flickered his eyes open, taking in every surrounding. The room was bright, and he laid in a clean-smelling, warm bed.

“Tony!” Peter’s voice sounded bright, happy.

Tony shot up straight when he heard Peter again. He whirled around the room, looking for him from his own bed.

There Peter sat, propped up on a million pillows with at least four tubes hooked into him. He waved at Tony sweetly from his bed, which was just feet away from Tony’s own.

“Hi,” Peter spoke simply. “Look, we’re hospital twins!”

“What?” Tony gasped, scrambling out of bed. There was an IV in his arm. He ripped it out. “How long was I out? What the hell?”

Peter frowned at the IV Tony had gotten rid of. “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.”

“God, kid,” Tony flew over beside Peter’s bed, sat on the side, and gathered the kid up into a hug. He tried his best to be gentle. Peter hugged back with surprising strength, burying his head into Tony’s shoulder. Tony tried to pull back after a while to give Peter some space, but Peter didn’t stop clinging. His teenage self shook a little. Tony placed his hand between Peter’s shoulder blades.

Peter tilted his head upwards. “I’m glad to see you,” His brown eyes were full of tears. His voice broke a little. “Tony –“

“Aw, kiddo,” Tony ran a hand over his hair. “Peter –“

They stared at each other for a moment, both anguished and relieved and shaky all at the same time. There weren’t many words to say. What could you say about what had just happened? What could possibly make it easier, or better?

Peter’s eyes traveled up to Tony’s forehead. “You passed out,” He said, pointing. Tony touched where Peter gestured and found stitches and a scab. “Bruce said you passed out.”

“Hm,” Tony responded, still feeling his head wound. “Looks like I did.”

“He said it’s cause you haven’t slept or eaten in days, and your body couldn’t take the stress anymore,” Peter’s voice rose a little. “Why do you _do_ that, Tony? Why don’t you take care –“

“My ‘why’ question is why’s Bruce in here talking shit about me?” Tony said dismissively, rubbing a thumb over Peter’s shoulder. “That’s not being a very good friend if you ask me –“

“Tony,” Peter’s eyes were glassy again. He swiped at them angrily. “God, I’m crying _again?”_ His tone was irritated. “I’ve been so emotional ever since I woke up – it’s so –“

“Wait – when did you wake up?” Tony asked quickly. “Was I really out that long? I’m such a loser!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’ve been up for like, two hours – chill. The only person I’ve seen is Bruce. And you needed to sleep you freaking psycho! The hell –“

Tony pulled Peter again, feeling a surge of fondness at hearing him speak so much, so easily. “Aw Pete, god did I miss you –“

Bruce found them there a few minutes later, Peter resting himself on Tony’s arm. He caught Tony’s eye and shot him a small smile.

“Don’t smile at me,” Tony told him without much heat. “You’re a traitor.”

Bruce looked down at Tony’s arm. “Did you take your IV out? Tony you need that, you have pretty much no fluids –“

“I told him not to do it,” Peter muttered from his spot, squished against Tony.

“Can we not talk about me for a sec doc?” Tony said, rolling his eyes. He gestured to Peter. “How’s my kiddo doing?”

Peter spoke up quickly. “Well, I’m not bleeding from the freaking butt anymore. That’s my favorite part.”

Bruce chucked a little. “No you’re not. Let’s not ever do that again, huh?”

“Or talk about it again,” Peter sighed. Tony rubbed his arm and raised his eyebrows at Bruce.

“Right, well, vitals are looking pretty good,” Bruce let them know, looking at the machines and his charts. “Seems like his healing factor is working all right now,” He pointed to the sickening burns that littered up and down Peter’s arms. “These were open wounds when he first came in, and now they’re fully scabbed. That shows he’s making some progress,”

Tony nodded, unable to look down at the burns. His stomach was a little delicate already.

“The hand is set nicely, that should heal up pretty well. The ribs are taped up as well. Honestly, at this point, he just needs to rest. For a long time –“

“I’m already tired again,” Peter said, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t get it, I’ve only been up a few hours.”

“Totally normal,” Bruce assured. “You’re going to be sleeping most of the day for a while. That’s how your body heals itself. Let it do its job and get all the sleep you can,”

Tony looked down at Peter. “He can do that. No problem. So –“

His words were cut off when Natasha Romanoff peeked carefully into the room. Tony waved her in, and behind came Clint as well. Peter’s face lit up.

“Hey guys!” he said. They smiled softly at him, a hint of panic in their eyes.

“Hi, bug,” Natasha rasped, striding forward quickly and squeezing Peter’s hand. “Tony, could we speak to you for a moment?”

That horrible fear began to bubble in Tony’s gut again. What could possibly be wrong now? Peter sensed the worry in the room and began to bite his lower lip nervously.

“Is something wrong?” Peter asked, his voice wobbly.

Natasha and Clint both shook their heads quickly, even though their expressions conveyed the exact opposite. “Nope, no worries,” Clint told him. “We just need to borrow Tony for just a moment.”

Tony’s heart sped up as he untangled himself from Peter. “I’ll be right back, bud,” He promised Peter firmly. “I’ll just be right outside.”

Peter watched him go, his chin shaking. “Don’t worry, kiddo,” Tony put a foot out the door. “Give me two minutes.”

Once the door was shut behind him, he rounded on Nat and Clint. They stood straight as rails, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“You two better have something good,” Tony said through gritted teeth. “He’s probably freaking out in there.”

“Keep your voice down,” Natasha said, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. “He can hear us – come on,” She pulled Tony further from the door. “We’ve gotta be quiet –“

“I don’t understand, what –“

Natasha got right in his ear once they were further away. “Shhh,” She whispered. “We can’t let Peter hear us. He’ll panic.”

Tony gave her a confused look. Clink wrung his hands. Natasha got even closer to Tony’s ear.

“Richard. He isn’t dead. _Richard’s alive._ ”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter cause damn do Tony and Peter need to have a little talk...

Peter was exhausted by the time Tony got back into his hospital room. The overly energetic, feeling of well-being that occupied his body when he first woke up was fading away. He guessed that they had him on a lot of painkillers, which were now wearing off.

He was slumped lethargically in his pillows when Tony walked in. “Hey,” Peter barely got out.

Tony’s face was unhealthily white. He forced a smile when he came inside, but Peter wasn’t fooled. Something was wrong.

“Hey, kid. Sorry about that,” Tony crossed the room and sat on the side of Peter’s bed again. “You all right?”

Peter wanted to know what was going on so bad, but he felt too tired to even speak. “Not really.” He answered honestly. Tony frowned and placed a hand on Peter’s forehead.

“No? What’s up?”

“I’m cold –“ As soon as he said it, Peter realized how true that fact was. He was freaking freezing. “I’m _still_ cold –“

Tony’s hand was warm as it felt Peter’s cheek and neck. Peter leaned into it. “Yeah, you do still feel pretty chilly –“

Pointless tears prickled in Peter’s eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? Seriously, who cried this much? “I’m tired of being cold,” He said, voice trembling. A couple tears leaked out, causing Tony to look even more worried. Peter stared down at his hands. “I’ve been cold for days – I’m just – I’m _tired –“_

Tony rubbed Peter’s back in circles, but water kept streaming down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, kiddo,” said Tony empathetically. “I’ll have them turn the heat up, and we’ll bring you some blankets in. You’ll get warm soon –“

Peter let out an actual sob then. Tony squeezed his good hand. “Hey, hey, hey,” Tony soothed gently. “Come on, bud – what’s going on? Why are you crying?”

Good question. “I don’t – I don’t,” He sniffled. “I just want to be warm. And things are hurting now – like my hand’s hurting and my stomach and I feel sick – and – and you look like shit and it’s all my fault –“

Tony pulled Peter into his side. “Hey, don’t worry about –“

“And I was _so_ scared and now something else has happened so I’m scared again, even though I’m trying not to be I just can’t –“

“Okay, okay – listen to me kiddie – hey –“ Tony’s tone turned more serious. “Peter.” Peter sucked in a cry and looked up at Tony. “Just calm down, okay? You have nothing to be scared of. Nothing at all. You’re all right –“

Then why had Clint and Natasha looked so afraid? “But – but –“

“I’ll tell you the truth okay? But just know that when I tell you this – we have it under control. Don’t be freaked out. All the Avengers are on it.”

Peter shook with cold and nodded. Tony sighed. “Okay, wait just a second. I can’t stand to see you shiver – it’s depressing –“

Tony made to get up but Peter caught him by the sleeve. “No! No – no don’t go –“ He said quickly. Tony paused, looking alarmed. Embarrassment flooded Peter’s face at his outburst. He let go of Tony’s sleeve. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled. “I’m being stupid –“

Tony gazed at Peter for a long moment. His face looked sad. “Oh, kiddo –“ He sat himself back down, kicking his feet up this time so he and Peter were leaning side by side, propped up on pillows. “After all this, you and me need to have a _long_ talk about what’s going on in your head.” He put his arm around Peter’s shoulders again, making him feel much better. “You’re not stupid, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter whispered.

“Okay,” Tony took in a breath. “Natasha and Clint came in to tell me about Richard’s custody situation. He’s very secure with SHIELD agents right now. Most of his HYDRA team that was working on your case have been eliminated. The rest are in custody as well.”

A flutter of fear raced in Peter’s heart. “Oh,” He stated, trying to sound aloof. “So – so he’s – I thought he’d be –“

“Dead?” Tony finished. “I thought he was. God, Pete – I’m sorry. I was so caught up with – everything I –“ Peter could tell he felt horrible. “I didn’t check closely enough – I’m sorry –“

“Don’t be,” Peter said, feeling guilt swirl in his stomach as he realized something. “I shouldn’t have asked you to kill him in the first place. That was – wrong of me.”

Tony shook his head. “No it wasn’t. He needs to be taken out.”

“But I shouldn’t have asked – that’s bad. I shouldn’t ask things like that of you –“

“God, kid,” Tony practically groaned. Peter stopped cold. Tony saw Peter’s reaction. “Sorry.”

Peter bit his lower lip and then tugged at his nasal cannula, irate. “Oh.”

Well now he felt like shit. Tony pulled Peter’s hand from his nose. “Don’t do that.”

There was a pause. “Are you mad at me?”

Yup. Total shit. Tony scrubbed a hand down his face. “No, kid I’m --”

“You sound like you are –“

“I’m really not – I’m just –“ Tony looked at Peter, who was surprised to see the tortured look in his eyes. “I’m – I’ve had a really long couple days. I just want you to be all right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s all right –“ Peter’s gaze caught his ruined hand. A strange idea suddenly came into his head. Something he felt might help him – something pretty insane. “Hey, if I ask something else, promise you won’t snap at me?”

Tony smiled wearily. “I promise.”

“Really, really promise?”

“Of course, kid. No snapping.”

Peter took in a big breath. Something in him said that Tony would probably be pretty upset anyways –

“Richard,” Peter said. “He’s in custody? I want to talk to him.”

*

“So – we might actually need you help –“

Steve’s head whipped up at the sound of Natasha’s voice. He turned to face her. “Um – am I _allowed_ to help?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “What am I? Your mother? Are you in or not?”

Steve crossed the hospital hallway quickly. “Well, yeah, of course what can I --?”

“Clint and I are leaving for SHIELD headquarters right now,” Natasha stated, jerking her head in a motion that told Steve to follow her. She walked quickly. “Richard’s there.”

“What?! I thought he was –“

“Dead? Nope. Fucking cockroach of a man. Nah, he’s there, in all his glory.”

“I can’t believe –“

“We need you to talk to him,” Natasha told him, all business. She’d never been much of a time waster. “He – he threatened Peter with something. He made a threat on his life almost. Rhodes knows more about it, we’ll have him fill you in on the details when we get there.”

“Wait – you want _me_ to interrogate Richard? Why me?”

“Because you’re infuriatingly stubborn and pushy – plus Tony’s got his hands full with a distraught boy right now. You’ll intimidate Richard. Tony doesn’t intimidate him. He thinks Tony is a joke for being so soft with Peter.”

Steve tried his best to keep up with her. Doubt riddled his mind. “Well, if you think so –“

*

_“Peter! Who drank all the diet coke in the fridge?”_

_“What?!”_

_“Who drank all the diet coke?”_

_“What?!”_

_“Good lord,” Tony mumbled, leaving the kitchen and entering the front room. There was Peter, with Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Nat all cheering him on. The kid braced himself and then proceeded to do four insanely quick backflips, all in a row._

_Peter finished, gasping. The others did little claps. “See?” Peter said, breathless. “I told you. That’s not even how many I can –“_

_“Peter,” Tony said again. “Did you hear me?”_

_Peter turned and scratched his head a little. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Uh – what?”_

_Tony looked at the ceiling and groaned. “Give me strength –“_

_Peter’s face turned innocent. “I really didn’t hear you!”_

_Clint made a smirk on his face. “Don’t you have super hearing?”_

_“He does,” Tony remarked. “He just doesn’t want to tell the truth.”_

_Peter let out a weak laugh. He was still jittering. “Well, yeah – about that –“_

_“Did you drink it all?”_

_“Well – you see I was really –“_

_“Shit Peter,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “That box was completely full.”_

_“Was not! Clint and Sam drank some!”_

_“I drank one,” Clint corrected. “And then I realized it was diet and I dumped the rest down the sink.”_

_“Oh. Right.” Peter looked at Tony with a childish guilty expression. “I guess I did drink it all.”_

_Tony threw his hands up. “In one day? Newsflash little guy – that’s bad for you.”_

_Peter began climbing up the wall spastically. “But I was so tired this morning!” He jumped from one corner to the next. “So I had two, then another, then more when I got home and – and –“_

_Tony watched him dizzily, and listen to him chatter on. He gazed up at the kid fondly, noticing how his caffeinated, chipper mood made everyone else grin. Peter made the whole house happy. His energy was infectious._

_Even without all the caffeine._

*

Peter’s energy seemed to be quickly fading. Tony watched as he leaned more and more onto Tony’s arm, and as his expression became listless. They still sat side by side, with Tony’s feet kicked up on Peter’s bed, and the monitors beeping softly.

But then, keeping Tony on his toes as usual, Peter said something bat-fucking-shit crazy.

“Richard,” Peter stared straight ahead. “He’s in custody? I want to see him.”

A beat of silence. Tony sucked in a breath of surprised air.

Because what the fuck?

“ _What?”_ Tony gushed out. “You want to – _what?”_

Peter looked at Tony earnestly. “I don’t expect you to understand, but – but this is just something I really feel like I _need –“_

“What is this?” Tony cut in sharply. “Is this some – proving you’re strong enough? Is this some test you’re giving yourself?”

“No, I –“

“Because understand this my kiddo – you don’t need to test yourself any more. You don’t need to _prove_ anything to yourself. Do you –“

“I said you wouldn’t understand,” Peter stated bitterly, looking away. Tony felt some hot anger rise up in him, but it wasn’t towards Peter.

“Is this –“ He had to take a calming breath before he said it. “Is this something _Steve_ was teaching you to do?”

Peter’s head whipped back around so fast Tony was worried he’d injured himself. “What?”

“Steve. His training with you. Is this the kind of stuff he was telling you to do?”

Peter’s chin trembled and his eyes flickered back and forth, as if his brain was frantically pacing. “You know about all that?” He asked in a small voice. “How?”

“How?” Tony’s anger was building. Just when he’d started forgetting Captain Trash-heap, here he came again, ruining Peter some more. God he hated him. “I found a note in your desk from him, telling you to go after a serial killer, which led to you getting kidnapped and the shit beat out of you. Again, I might add. So yeah, I got it out of him.”

“Oh – wow,” Peter’s eyes were huge. “You’re uh – you’re pretty mad about that, huh?”

“Mad? I’m fu – uh – freaking _livid,”_

Peter’s good hand shook a little. “I’m sorry,” Tears spilled from his eyes. “I – I really –“

“What are you sorry for?” Tony asked quickly, hating seeing Peter cry any more. “I’m not – I’m not mad at _you,”_

Peter blinked. More tears spilled out. Tony wiped them away. “Hey, hey,” He softened, keeping himself in check. “Did I freak you out? I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m not mad at you.”

“Then,” Peter wiped his nose. “Then who are you mad at?”

Oh. Hadn’t that been obvious? “I’m mad at Steve.”

“ _Steve?_ ” Peter gasped out. “Why are you mad at Steve? Is that why he hasn’t come to see me? Why hasn’t he? He helped me! You shouldn’t be mad at him!”

“Peter,” Tony sighed. “This is between me and him right now, you don’t need –“

“No it’s not!” Peter sat up a little straighter and then winced in pain. Tony steadied him.

“Hey, bud, take it easy –“

“It’s not just between you guys, this is about me too! He didn’t make me train! I went to him and I asked him! I asked him to be tough on me, I asked for his help –“

He didn’t know that part. Why had Peter gone to Steve instead of Tony? “Well – well, regardless. You’re a kid. Just a child. Steve had no right –“

“Yes he did! I _asked_ him! I’m not a child, Tony! I’m sixteen!”

“You are a child! You’re a teenager, and adults are supposed to take care of teenagers!”

“Steve was taking care of me! He’s the reason I was able to escape – it’s how I got the courage to break my hand and fight back –“

“He’s also the reason you got snatched in the first place,” Tony retorted. “Don’t forget that part.”

Peter scoffed. “Richard would have gotten me no matter what.”

Ouch. That one hurt a little. “You don’t think I could’ve protected you from that?”

“I –“ Peter seemed a little guilty now. “I don’t know, Tony – I feel like he would have found a way.”

“Right.” Tony said curtly.

“Tony –“

“Why didn’t you come to me for help?” There it was. It was out. He’d been wanting to ask for a bit now. Why Peter had been training with Steve instead of Tony? Why had he left Tony out of the healing process?

Peter just shook his head a little. “Would you –“ His voice was careful, soft. “Would you have helped me?”

Tony stared at Peter incredulously. “I – I would help you with _anything,_ Peter –“

“No. You wouldn’t have trained with me. You wouldn’t have made me do hard things. You never do.”

Tony looked at Peter long and hard. Peter, who was trembling a little now. Peter, who’d had a shitty first six years of life, who’d been bounced off to a tiny apartment, who’d loved his Aunt and Uncle. Peter, who’d buried those people he loved, who got picked on in school, who fucking got bitten by some little shit spider that gave him this insane _with great power comes great responsibility_ complex. He’d been tormented by his dad, he’d been betrayed, he’d been manipulated. And he was _sixteen._

Placing a hand gently on the side of Peter’s face, Tony spoke with the utmost amount of empathy. “Honestly, baby,” He stated a little sadly. “I kinda do it because – well – I figure you’ve _already_ had to do hard things.”

The mood in the room changed. Tony’s words seemed to strike something inside of Peter. He chewed painfully on his bottom lip, and his face changed to all kinds of confusing expressions.

“Um –“ Peter started. His voice shook. “Um – wow –“ He switched his eyes up to Tony’s. “God that’s – that’s kind of true –“

Then the kid burst into tears. But they weren’t the small tears that fell in twos and threes every so often. No, these were hot and fast – these were actual sobs. Peter was crying like he’d cried in the plane – after that first kidnapping.

_I’ve never felt so hurt in my life._

“All right, kiddie,” Tony wrapped Peter up and placed his chin on his head. “You can just cry. You’ll feel better soon – don’t worry. It will be better after you cry –“

And Peter did. He cried until tears streamed all the way down his neck and into his shirt. His peaked nose turned red, as did his eyes. He inhaled congested breaths and then spluttered them out again. All the while, Tony held onto him tight. No one had ever held Tony when he was a sad kid – no one had really cared. Everyone needed that –

Finally, the weeping began to slow. Peter hiccupped. “I’m – I’m so tired –“

“Then go to sleep, kiddo. I’ll be here.”

“Okay – okay,” Peter wiped at his eyes. “When I wake up I’ll stop crying. I promise.”

“Kid,” Tony said. “God, if you didn’t cry about all the messed up shit that’s happened to you – honestly that’d be a little weird.”

Peter spluttered out a chuckle and looked at Tony gratefully. “I’m sorry that adopting me has probably been the most draining thing ever for you.”

“You mean the best thing? That _is_ what you meant, right?”

Peter’s mouth curved softly. “You’re my best friend in the whole world.”

Tony’s heart swelled. He pushed Peter back a little so he was laying down. Peter snuggled down into his blankets, looking a little more content. “Go to sleep, Peter. I sure love you.”

Peter started to say it back, but appeared to be out of it before he could respond.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one. It was pretty interesting to write. Let me know what you think! Predictions, thought, anything! I love to hear it!

Peter wasn’t sleeping very well.

They’d been in the Alaskan hospital for a full two days now. The poor kid would only sleep for a couple hours at a time, and even then it was in fits of nightmares and emotional outbursts. It worried Tony a lot because the main thing Peter needed right now was sleep, or his healing factor wouldn’t work.

“It’s his pain medication,” Bruce told him when Tony brought up these concerns. They were in the hallway outside of Peter’s room, sipping on coffee. Tony never went far from Peter’s room. “We’re giving him so much that it’s messing with his ability to sleep. It’s also what’s causing all the mood swings,”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen the kid so weepy –“

“Well take comfort that a big part of that is the meds,” Bruce sighed. “It’s kind of a difficult situation. If I took him off all the painkillers, he’d be too uncomfortable to sleep. But if I leave him on it, he can’t sleep anyways –“

Tony took a long draw of coffee. “How much pain would he actually be in?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at his friend. “A lot. He’s got pins in his hand right now that are holding it together so it heals properly. He’s also got a stapled stomach and two organs completely gone. Plus the skin on his abdomen is all stitched up. He’d be pretty much in agony.”

“Right,” Tony began poking into the styrofoam cup with his nails. “Can’t you give him a sleeping pill?”

Bruce bit his lip. “I could – he’s just on so much medicine. I could though. We can try it in a bit and see how it goes.”

“Yeah that would be – shit,” Tony stopped when he saw Peter shuffling in his bed through the room’s window. “He’s been asleep for like, thirty minutes!”

Bruce groaned. “Yeah – I’ll go look into that sleeping pill. Give him an extra blanket while you’re in there,”

Tony was already walking through the door. “Sure -- thanks Bruce.”

Peter was rubbing at his eyes frantically with his one good hand. He tried to sit himself up, but there weren’t pillows under him anymore. Tony rushed over.

“Hey bud,” Tony sat beside him and placed a pillow where his back was. “What woke you up?”

Peter’s teeth chattered a little. “M’cold,” he muttered. “How long was I sleeping?”

Tony crossed the room to get another blanket from the cabinet. “Just a half hour, kiddo.” Once there, he grabbed two for good measure.

Peter groaned. “Damn my life,” He flopped his head back. Tony placed the two blankets over Peter and lifted them up to his chin.

“Is that any better? Do you think you can fall back asleep?”

“I dunno,” Peter snuggled down into his blankets. Tony frowned and sat down by Peter again. He kicked off his shoes and set his legs up on the hospital bed, wedging himself next to the kid. Peter put his forehead on Tony’s arm.

“Here, sit up a little,” Tony told Peter. In the space, Tony put his arm under Peter’s back, and used his other hand to rub the side of his arm, trying to generate some warmth. He rattled his brain for something to help the kid a little more. He honestly did look painfully exhausted. “What if I told you a really boring story? Would that get you to sleep?”

“Doubt it,” Peter scoffed. “All your stories are exciting.”

“I get it. I’m an exciting person. But what about my duckling story? You ever heard that one?”

Peter squinted his eyes skeptically. “What the hell?”

“Have you heard it?”

“Um… no?”

“Oh, it’s cute. Just listen. Or, ignore me and fall asleep. I won’t be offended,” He smiled down at Peter who giggled a little. “Okay, so I’m – what, 23? Yeah I think so, parents had died just a year or so ago, this was the unfortunate beginning of my party-boy stage. Yeah. Okay, so me and Happy had just recently met. He was only my chauffer at this point and he hated me. He’ll tell you he didn’t but he did.”

“Why did he hate you?” Peter asked.

“Cause I was an even bigger asshole than I am now –“

Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re not even,”

“Um, hate to break it to you kid, but I’m basically the epitome of an asshole,”

“You really aren’t though,” Peter expressed, pushing himself up a little further on his pillows. “Everyone thinks that – and you let them, but it isn’t true. I mean, where are you right now? Sitting in the hospital with a kid, telling him a freaking bedtime story.”

Tony looked at Peter fondly for a moment. “Aw, you’re cute –“

“I’m not cute, I’m _serious –“_

Tony held up a silencing hand. “Cute. Now, anyways – you’re supposed to be sleeping. So, Happy hates me, I’m a little twenty-three year old drunk, and he’s driving me to some Stark charity event that I was pissed about going to. My twenties were sucky years for me, kid – god. So we’re driving, driving, and we’re stopped at a light in this neighborhood when all these little ducklings cross the street –“

“Why did your twenties suck?”

“Because I was a _drunk._ Did you miss that?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So. Little ducklings cross the street with their mom duck, and I’m like, ‘Happy! Stop the car, ‘cause I want to look at those ducklings!’ So he stops –“

There was a creak as the room’s door opened. Both Peter and Tony looked up as Bruce poked his head inside.

“Ready to get knocked out Peter?” asked Bruce with a small smile. He twitched a little vial in between his fingers. “This’ll do it for ya,”

“Hm?” mumbled Peter, pursing his lips. “You’re gonna knock me out?”

“It’s going to put you to sleep, bud,” said Tony, sitting up. Bruce walked across the room briskly and connected the vial’s needle into the wire of Peter’s IV. Peter stared at it with wide eyes.

“But I don’t want you to put me to sleep,” He expressed, almost a little panicked. “I want to listen to the rest of Tony’s duck story,”

Bruce looked over at Tony with an amused expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tony waved his hand. Bruce shrugged and pushed the plunger into the IV. Peter groaned.

“Does no one ever listen to me? I just said I don’t want to be put – whoa,” The kid reeled and flopped his head back onto his pillows. “What the shit –“

“Lovely,” said Tony, rolling his eyes. He threw his legs over the side of the hospital bed, getting ready to move. There was a weary tug on his sleeve.

“Wait,” Peter whimpered. “What’s – what’s happening – why do I feel this way?”

“Kiddo, he just gave you something to help you sleep –“

“Then why do I feel like I’m floating?”

“Totally normal, Peter,” Bruce said firmly. “You’ll feel so much better when you have a good, long sleep. I promise.”

Peter kept his fist curled on Tony’s sleeve. “Don’t leave me here when I’m out. You said you wouldn’t leave me when I’m out –“

Tony sat himself in the chair next to Peter’s bed. “I did say that,” He assured patiently. He took Peter’s hand from his sleeve and held it instead. “Feel my hand? I’ll be right here, no worries.”

Peter nodded to him as his eyelids fluttered shut. As Tony waited for the kid to fall completely asleep, he felt eyes watching him. Raising his head up, he saw Bruce with a held titled to the side and an odd expression on his face.

“Yes?” Tony inquired. Bruce must have realized he was staring, and blinked rapidly.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head a little. “I just forget sometimes.”

“Forget what?”

Bruce patted Peter’s leg softly. “How different you are with him. I’ve never seen you treat anyone like you treat this kid.”

“Yeah, well –“ Tony rubbed his tired eyes. “What can I say? Little guy’s grown on me.”

*

Steve wrung his hands in the darkened hallway. He didn’t wring them out of nervousness – it was an attempt to control his raw anger. If he went in there and got physical with Richard, he’d fail his little mission without a doubt.

Natasha came around the corner. “Rogers. You ready?”

Steve let out a heavy breath. “Yes. Of course.” Natasha jerked her head, gesturing for Steve to follow her.

“You afraid?” She asked curtly.

“No.”

She looked back at him during her brisk walk. “Yeah, I didn’t think you would be.”

When they rounded another corner, they came face to face with a large, thick glass window. Steve stopped in his tracks at the sight of it and took in what was through the glass in the tiny room.

Richard. Laid down in a hospital bed looking as white as the sheets. His body was surrounded with tubes and wires. Dark black bruises covered his face. Steve remembered Peter’s heavy bruising on his face and smiled slightly.

Steve scoffed a little. “Well – he looks like –“

“Shit?” Natasha finished for him. Steve nodded.

“Yeah, he does. Stark did quite a number on him. We found him crawling away to some helicopter they had stashed away like a fucking snake. God, he makes me sick,” She looked away from the glass. “He’s not going to make it much longer – his chest is completely crushed and they didn’t care enough to give him the surgery to fix it. Get the info that we talked about from him quick. The sooner we can take all those tubes out, the better.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at her poisonous tone. It was as if she spit every word out in fury. “I’m surprised _you_ haven’t killed him yet.” He said. “It sounds like you want to.”

She bit her bottom lip until it went while. “Trust me, I do,” She voiced quietly. Steve was astounded to see her chin wobbling a little. He tried to tilt his head a way to catch her expression.

“Nat?” He said carefully. She looked up from the ground quickly, tears barely shinning in her eyes.

“What?” She said forcefully, blinking any form of distress away instantly.

Steve watched her incredulously. “You all right?”

She set her jaw a little angrily. “Yes. Of course.”

“It’s just,” He raised his arms from his sides halfway and let them fall in a flop. “You – just –“

Natasha set her gaze back on Richard. “Just. Yeah. I’m a little – shook,” She turned her head back and forth, as if she was upset with herself. “Just seeing the kid – like that – “ She swiped at her eyes, irritated. “And he fell through the ice, right in front of me –“

Steve reached forward, intending to place a hand on Nat’s shoulder. She hit it away. “Don’t,” She told him. “Just – just get in there and figure this out. Figure out what he’s done to Peter now, so we can be done with him.”

Steve couldn’t agree more. “Okay,” He told her fervently. “I will.”

*

_Peter watched the stormy sea below from the top of the boat. It was a large boat, bigger than a ferry, and it was taking Tony and Peter back from Coney Island. They’d spent the day there, which had been awesome. But as they were on the ship headed back to the mainland a viscous storm had blown in._

_The two watched in awe from the top of the ship as the black clouds rolled in and massive waves crashed against the sides. When the boat rocked against the force, Tony stumbled backwards and Peter caught his upper arm in a flash._

_Tony grinned at him unsteadily. “Thanks bud. Here, hold onto the rail.”_

_Peter did so and peeked over the side in interest. He’d never seen a storm up close like this before. It was fascinating – with the rushing water and heavy winds. There was just so much everywhere – Peter felt like he could never look at it all._

_With another lurch, Tony stumbled back again. “Tony!” Peter yelped, grabbing onto his coat sleeve. Tony grasped back onto the rail and rolled his eyes._

_“You and your spider balance. I’m so jealous, and somehow annoyed at the same time. Like, do spiders even have good balance? I didn’t know that was one of their traits –“_

_Peter laughed up at Tony brightly. He felt a surge of thankfulness for the man. He’d taken Peter out to Coney, spent the day with him, listened to him, and now he was standing out on the deck during a storm. Peter knew he’d much rather be inside and warm, but Peter liked to see the waves so Tony came along. Tony Stark was a much better person than most people knew._

_Very suddenly, almost out of nowhere, a thought darkly infiltrated Peter’s mind. As he looked down into the swirling waters below, something told him that if he jumped in, he probably wouldn’t make it. The drop was far, the water absolutely freezing, and currents so violent that even Spiderman would drown. Tony wouldn’t be able to get to him in time. He’d die. Plus, it would be super easy to jump over the side. Just step over the rail and leap –_

_Peter blinked. A pit formed in his stomach. Where did that come from? How strange to have thought that. It wasn’t like he really wanted to do something so terrible – right? Of course not. People probably had weird thoughts like that all the time._

_He abruptly began to feel cold. Taking one hand off the railing, he grabbed onto Tony’s forearm, but it wasn’t to steady him this time. For some reason, he felt a little afraid._

_Tony wrapped an arm around Peter. “You all right?” He asked Peter loudly over the wind. “You getting chilly?”_

_Peter wanted to cling onto Tony like a little kid, but then he’d give away that something was wrong. But nothing was wrong. Really. It was just a fluke thought – not like it meant anything._

_“Um – yeah,” Peter answered Tony. “Let’s go inside.”_

*

“So, five years?” Steve voiced boldly, his words echoing off the walls in the small cell. “What’s in five years, Richard? Let’s talk about this.”

Richard wheezed in glee. “Good fucking fuck. Now I’ve got Captain America in here questioning me? You bitches must really be worked up.”

Steve clenched his fist to himself but didn’t let it show. Composure. Poise. Richard respected people that were sleek and put together. Passionate, overly emotional people were nothing to him because he didn’t _get_ emotions. That’s why Tony was such a joke to Richard. He cared so openly about Peter, it clouded him at times.

“I’m actually not the top dog here, believe it or not,” Steve told Richard coolly. “All I want is to know what’s going down in five years.”

“Nah – I’d rather watch y’all squirm. Where’s Stark? Crying over my little fuck of a son?”

Steve didn’t let his face crack. “I could tell you lots of reactions Stark has had, if you like that sort of thing. If you’ll tell me about five years in the future.”

“You ever heard Peter cry?” Richard rasped. His stomach heaved grossly. His teeth had some red tinges. Steve felt like throwing up at the sight of him. “He cries like a bitch. He cries like his mom. She cried and cried all the time – god I hated it. She cried when I did tests on Peter –“

“Listen to me –“

“He’s weak you know,” Richard continued mercilessly, sneering. “He’s a weak boy. He told me to kill him. Right before you assholes showed up, your wonderful Peter told me I could kill him –“ Then Richard laughed, long and cold. Steve stared. “I’m telling you. Five years.”

Steve’s breath hitched. “Tony sobbed after we found Peter,” He found himself saying, still calm, still repressed. On the inside, however, he was raging with fire. “The kid was in terrible shape when we got to him and Tony cried his eyes out. He sat curled in the hospital hallway for hours, just weeping on and off.”

He looked at Richard expectantly, and just like Steve thought, Peter’s father broke into a huge smile. It twisted his probably once handsome features terribly. A laugh scratched from Richard’s mouth harshly.

“God, what a fucking loser!” He threw his head back and laughed harder. Steve looked down at the floor, hating everything.

“Yeah, he didn’t eat or sleep for a long time. He couldn’t do anything. He was devastated – still is.” This was one of the worst things he’d ever had to do. It was like he was laughing about the whole debacle with Richard – like he was one of his pals. To even think of making fun of Tony’s horrible ordeal at the hospital made Steve want to punch a wall.

Richard was still shaking with laughter. “How amazing. The great Tony Stark, crying on the floor over some kid. Idiots.”

Steve took a step closer. “And he’ll be crying in five years – yes?”

Richard watched carefully as Steve moved and shot him an amused expression. “Tony didn’t listen very well, did he?”

“Well, I don’t know. He was really, really distraught.”

That made Richard’s eyes spark. “I never said the five years was definite. It was my own prediction for what I think will happen within that time.”

“What?” Steve inquired smoothly. “What will happen?”

Richard tilted his head sloppily, his body looking pained. It was almost like he was trying to read Steve – to see if he was worth talking to further.

“You know much about the mentally ill, Captain America?” Richard asked, eerily soft. “Do you?”

Richard’s voice changed so intensely that it threw Steve for a loop. “Um – uh – no. I don’t know a lot about that – stuff.”

Richard licked his lips. “Interesting,” He said, looking down at his fingernails. “I mean, what is there to know?” His eyes bore right into Steve’s. “How could you possibly protect Peter from something that’s in his mind?”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas bb's. Hope ya like this one.

Peter slept for two days straight. During those two days, his bones fell back into place, organs began to regrow, and skin regained its normal pallor without cuts and bruises.

And while Peter healed, Tony deteriorated.

He couldn’t sleep. They’d brought a bed in for him to sleep in but it creaked with every movement. Plus, little sounds were killing him lately. Every footstep, every beep of a machine made his heart race. So, he’d wake up after an hour or so and wander the halls drinking coffee or doing work on his phone.

His heart had been racing more than usual as well, and he found himself unable to take deep breaths anymore. It was like there was an everlasting pit in his stomach that clenched constantly.

“He’s doing great,” Bruce said at the end of the second day. “It’s just what he needs – all this sleep. That broken hand is completely healed, the burns, the cuts on his face. His stomach even looks good too – incision is nearly a scar. I’d say when he wakes up, after a final exam, we can take him back to New York.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He looked over at Peter, whose hand he loosely held. The kid’s cheeks were rosy and face relaxed in sleep. “You’re sure?”

Bruce glanced down at his clipboard. “Mhm.” Then he looked back up at Tony. “God, you look terrible.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “If one more person –”

“No, really,” Bruce’s face was intensely worried now. “When’s the last time you looked at yourself?”

“I dunno. Who cares?”

“Good lord,” Bruce stepped forward and yanked on Tony’s arm. “Come with me,”

“But, but,” Tony spluttered, unlocking his hand from Peter’s and stumbling to his feet. “What if he wakes up?”

“In the next two minutes?”

“Well –”

Bruce continued to drag Tony out into the hallway and through some bathroom doors. He did feel a little lightheaded now that he thought of it –

“You know Bruce, I don’t exactly like being manhandled, and – whoa.” He stopped speaking when they came to a slightly water-stained bathroom mirror.

There was a stab of stillness in the room when Tony caught sight of himself in the glass. His hair was oily and slick. It stuck up everywhere. The underneath parts of his eyes were a thick gray with some reddish mixed in. He had a scruffy beard that patched all over his face. His cheekbones jutted out a little more than usual and he looked to be a sickly cream color. The whites in his eyes were pink.

“Oh,” Tony stated softly. “Well – I’ve had a – um – a long week –”

Bruce gazed at him for a moment. “Now you see,” He said lowly. “So could you _please_ eat something and go to _sleep?”_

“Um, yeah I guess –”

“Because I’m about ready to call up Pepper and have her come here,” Bruce warned.

“God, no,” Tony said, sarcastically. “Don’t bring her into this. We have enough people stuck here in fucking Alaska.”

*

_The Christmas Eve night in New York city was chilled over in freezing icicles and glittering snow. Tony had just gotten Peter a brand new coat for winter which puffed around the kid, making him look even smaller. They sat on a bench in central park, taking a rest after walking all around, seeing thousands upon thousands of Christmas lights. Peter’s cheeks were red-tinged as was the tip of his nose. Yellow, red, and green lights illuminated his face and made spots in his eyes. There was a sadness there, however, no matter how much light filled it._

_Faint Christmas music played in the distance. Peter’s head snapped over to the noise. Tony suspected he could hear it much clearer._

_“This song,” the kid muttered. His eyes fluttered back down to his lap. “She loved this song.” He said it minutely, as if he didn’t even want Tony to hear._

_Her. Tony knew who ‘her’ was. He didn’t need to hear the name. And apparently, Peter was in too much pain to say it._

_Tony strained his ears to catch exactly what song it was. “What is it?” He asked._

_Peter’s voice was soft. “It goes like, Oh come, Emmanuel – and ransom captive Israel –”_

_Tony could hear it now. He always felt like song was one of the prettier ones. It was a little odd to hear a world like ‘Emmanuel’ come out of the kid’s mouth. He’d never heard him talk about anything religious at all._

_Peter went on, “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel – shall come for thee oh Israel,” He was breaking a stick in his hands, throwing the pieces on the ground. “She loved this song – thought it was so beautiful. But I don’t get it? Why Israel, and what’s Jesus going to do for them?”_

_Tony was silent. The kid seemed to be getting more and more agitated._

_“Why does he only save Israel? Does that mean he’s just going to save certain people?” He looked up at Tony expectantly._

_“I – um – I’m the wrong person to ask, bud,” Tony tried to express as gently as possible, being certain to keep the sarcasm out of his voice when it came to a sensitive topic for the kid. “I know pretty much nothing about – well – ya know –”_

_Peter nodded. “Do you believe in God?” He asked suddenly._

_Tony bit his lip. What was he supposed to say?  Should he lie? Try and give the kid some hope? He shouldn’t fib – it wouldn’t help in the long run._

_“No – I don’t.”_

_Peter jolted back for a moment, as if he’d been wishing for a different answer. But then his shoulders slumped, almost in defeat, and he nodded slowly._

_“Yeah –” Peter said, staring off through the trees. “Me neither.”_

_Placing an arm around Peter’s shoulders, Tony raised his eyebrows. “You don’t? Not even a little?”_

_Peter shook his head back and forth. “No. I used to but – not anymore.” He heaved a big sigh. “He only saves certain people.”_

*

“You all right?”

“Yes.”

“You feel okay?”

“That’s the same as ‘you all right’ – but – yes.”

“You cold?”

“No, Tony. You’ve placed fifty blankets on me.”

“There’s three. How’s your stomach?”

“Re-growing its organs? Could you please stop grilling me? I’m already kinda stressed out right now.”

Tony looked beyond tense. He sat close to Peter on the flying plane. “Well, I’m stressed too. You know, you don’t have to do this.”

Peter struggled not to roll his eyes, due to the fact that Tony had said those exact words about thirty times. “I know I don’t,” Peter said. “But I want to. I need to.”

They were flying back to New York City now. Once Peter had woken up, Bruce had been eager to get him out of Alaska and the prying eyes of the hospital’s staff. So they loaded him up on a jet, under Tony’s close supervision, and headed for home.

But Peter wanted to stop at SHIELD headquarters. More like begged and begged Tony incessantly, using every guilt tactic he could pull out of his sleeve. He had to talk to Richard. There was something he needed to tell him.

Tony gave him a searching, helpless look. “Kid –”

“I’m sixteen years old. I can decide this for myself.”

“Oh you’re _sixteen_ ,” Tony leaned back with a huff. “Practically a grown man.”

Peter glared at him but then felt weary at trying to be upset. “Please don’t make fun of what I’m doing,” He requested in a quieter tone. “This is really important to me.”

Tony quirked up the side of his face as he took in Peter’s words. They sat side by side in the cabin’s chairs, with Peter bundled and knees up to his chest. Tony had his feet up in a reclined footrest, one leg crossed over the other. Peter gazed at him in earnest.

“I know it is, Peter,” Tony said, just as quiet and slightly forlorn. “And _you_ are important to _me_ , kiddo.” He brushed Peter’s bangs back. “And I worry about things as important as you.”

*

_“I hate him!” Peter yelled throughout the small apartment. “I hate Flash!”_

_May peeked her head from around the corner, still in her scrubs from work. She was surprised to see bright tears in small fourteen-year-old Peter’s eyes. He wiped them away frantically at the sight of her, but she’d seen. She always did._

_“You hate Flash?” She prodded carefully, stepping forward. “Why do you hate him, love? Did he say something mean to you?”_

_Peter dropped his backpack in a thud on the floor. Stumbling over to the couch, still with tears in his eyes, he sank into the cushions. “I just hate him,” Peter breathed. May sat down next to him._

_“Well, there’s gotta be a reason. You’re Peter,” She squeezed the back of his neck fondly. “You don’t just hate people – you’re too much of a sweetheart.”_

_He looked at her quickly, a surprisingly hard look on his face. “How do you know?” He asked darkly. “How do you know I don’t hate people?”_

_She backtracked. Okay. So he really was angry about something. “Who do you hate, Peter?”_

_“Lots of people.”_

_“You do?”_

_“Well,” Peter corrected. “I guess – not that many –”_

_“Why don’t you name a couple?”_

_He took in a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. “I hate Flash,” Looking down at his hands, he shook a little. “And I – I hate the man,” His eyes met May’s. “I hate the man that killed Ben. I_ hate _him, May.”_

_A pang stung in her heart just at the mention of his name. There was a hole inside that ravaged her, and the only thing that kept it from consuming her was this boy sitting on the couch. Peter, her child, her little kiddo. God, she loved him. God – did she miss Ben too._

_But there was a wrong and a right in this situation._

_So she got up and knelt down in front of Peter, tilting his chin so their faces could take each other in. She placed a firm hand over his heart._

_“You feel that?” She inquired carefully, pressing on his chest. “In there?”_

_He looked confused, and even a little annoyed. “My heart?”_

_“No, what’s_ in _your heart. What is it?”_

_Peter tilted his head. “Um, like – feeling?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Peter’s chin shook. “Um – I feel – I guess I feel angry.”_

_“Anything else?”_

_He broke her gaze. “And – sad. I feel sad.”_

_She nodded, understanding. “Right. Are either of those good things?”_

_Tears spilled from Peter’s eyes, hitting his t-shirt. “No,”_

_“No. They aren’t. Holding a grudge against someone is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. It’s never good for you. You’ve got to forgive people, baby. That’s the only way any of us can ever survive.”_

_Peter stared at her, at first with frustration, then confusion, then a beautiful childlike trust. He pursed his lips. “Okay,” He replied. “I – um – I think I could try that –”_

_She thumbed the side of his face, erasing a tear. “I know you can. You can do anything, Peter Parker.”_

*

SHIELD headquarters was massive. Peter limped inside with the help of Tony, who held on tight. He hated how much strain he was causing Tony, but it was just this one last thing. Talk to Richard, then he could truly be done.

When they rounded a corner, a large room was revealed that contained some of Peter’s favorite people in the world. Clint Barton caught sight of Peter and smiled slyly. Natasha smiled a tight, guarded smile. Wanda turned, and her hands flew to her mouth in delight. Rhodey glanced first at Tony, making sure he was all right, then at Peter, his expression relieved. Then, from around the corner came –

“Steve!” Peter cried out in delight. He used his strength to rip himself away from Tony and struggle over towards Steve. The Captain looked surprised to see Peter, and also a little wary of the kid coming closer. But Peter didn’t care. He crossed the room and practically jumped on him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I missed you!” Peter said a little loudly, having to look up because Steve was so tall. “I – I missed –”

Steve glanced over Peter’s head for a moment and then bent his head down. He placed an arm around Peter’s back and a hand atop his head. “Did ya, kid?” His face was unreadable. Peter couldn’t figure it out. “I missed you too.”

“You helped me a lot,” Peter gushed quickly. “I was able to break my hand in that place because of what you said to me. I was able to fight better, too. And you saved me from the _ice_ – I never really thanked you for that –”

“Peter,” Steve stopped him, strained. It was then that Peter realized the atmosphere in the room. It was extremely tense. Everyone shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. Peter whirled around to see Tony – white-lipped and with a pinched look on his face. Peter let go of Steve, who placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do what you’re doing right now, kid. I know you want to be strong and tough about hard things, but you don’t have to talk to Richard. I’m not asking you to do that.”

Peter took a step back. “What – what are you talking about? I know you’re not. How could you have? We haven’t spoken in a week.”

Steve shrugged. I – I know. I just didn’t – know if you were, I dunno trying to prove something to me, or –”

Familiar, businesslike footsteps came alive then. In a moment, Tony’s familiar hand was on Peter’s upper arm tightly.

“Come on, kid,” Tony began.

Peter tried to hit Tony’s hand away. “What do you mean?” He directed at Steve. “Why are you being so weird? Why – goddamn it Tony!” He whirled at the man, who looked taken aback. Easily, Peter ripped Tony’s fingers from pulling him away. “Let me go!”

Tony’s eyes look taken aback, and then flashed with hurt. Peter’s head swiveled from Tony to Steve, Tony to Steve. Annoyance raised in his face.

“You two,” Peter huffed out, pointing to Iron Man and Captain America. “Need to work your shit out. Stop _fighting_ with each other when it comes to me. Find a freaking balance. I’m not a baby, and I’m not a soldier. I’m a person. Just – just –” He looked at the ceiling. “I want to talk to Richard. That’s what I want, and I’m going to do it.” There was silence in the room. Both Steve and Tony stood stock still. Peter cast a pleading glance Tony’s way. “You’re who takes care of me – you’re the one I trust with everything in the world. Could you please, please just figure this out?”

Tony nodded jerkily. “Of – course, kiddo. I’ll – I’ll do my best.”

Peter let out a breath. “Thanks.” Then he gave Tony a pleading look. “Um – sorry,”

Tony sighed. “Don’t be, bud. I get why you’re frustrated. Just –” He tried to look up at Steve, but didn’t seem to be able to. “Give me a little time, yeah?”

Peter stepped closer to Tony then, and reached for him. The unsaid request was immediately granted when Tony wrapped an arm around him. “Okay. Sure.”

Giving him a tired smile, Tony said. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” Peter looked around the room. “Now could someone please take me to talk to my freaking father?”

*

Richard didn’t even look alive when Peter stepped inside his little holding cell. It would have been suffocating in there if one wall hadn’t been entirely made up of a giant window. Tony, Clint, and Natasha stood outside, looking in anxiously. Tony looked the worst at all, his eyes flicking from Peter to Richard frantically. The man looked like he might be sick. Peter felt a stab of guilt for everything he’d put Tony through, and for getting upset with him earlier. He knew all Tony ever did was try to help. Just sometimes – well – Peter didn’t know. After this he’d let Tony sit him on the couch and take care of him as long as he wanted to make up for everything.

Peter cleared his throat. “Um –” Richard’s eyes were shut. “Um,” He stated a little louder. “—Hi – “

Richard convulsed a little, and his eyelids flickered open. He seemed groggy for a moment, and then caught sight of Peter at the foot of his bed. He let out a laugh that sounded like a smoker’s.

“Am I dreaming?” He said to the ceiling. “This is a hilarious dream if so –”

“No,” Peter answered for him instantly. “I’m really here – here to see you.”

With trembling arms, Richard pulled himself into the best sitting position he could. He scanned Peter with his eyes, taking him in from head to toe. Peter bit his lower lip uncomfortably, feeling creeped out with Richard’s eyes on him. Involuntarily, he looked towards Tony, who came up against the glass and placed a hand there.

Tony mouthed, ‘You need me?’ With wide eyes. Peter shook his head. No, he didn’t. He wanted Tony, but he didn’t need him. Not in this moment. He looked back at Richard, who looked amused.

“How’s daddy Stark doing?” Richard teased. “He worried about you?”

Peter shrugged. “We’re not talking about him.”

“Oh, son – then _what_ are you here to talk about?”

Peter licked his lips, trying to muster up the will to speak what was on his mind. Richard gave a sick grin, looking Peter over again.

“Look at you,” Richard nearly whispered. “You look just fucking like me. Too bad you aren’t _actually_ like me. Too bad you’re a weak little fuck. You might be some spider-bitch with super strength, but you’re still nothing. You hear that? You’re _nothing._ You –”

“I need to tell you something,” Peter stopped him forcefully, keeping his eyes on the ground for a moment. “I came here to tell you something.”

He heard Richard stop. Feeling it was a little safer, Peter moved his eyes upwards and bore them right into his father’s, not breaking the gaze. Richard raised his eyebrows.

“Then spit it the fuck out.”

Peter squinted his eyes and opened his mouth. He could do it, he had to do it. God, it was almost nauseating to say.

“Now – when – when I say this, it doesn’t mean I like you or anything,” Peter began to clarify. “Because I don’t. And it doesn’t mean that I think you’re a good person at all, because I don’t.” Peter balled his hand into a fist, letting his fingernails scrape against his palm. “But – but you’re going to die, and I don’t want you to die thinking that you’ve made me into some angry person that is going to hate you forever and curse your name. Because I’m not. I’m not angry with you, and I don’t hate you.”

Richard looked completely floored, staring at Peter like he was the strangest thing in the universe. Peter sucked in some more air.

“I just want you to know that I – I forgive you.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> This chapter contains many references to suicide. Many. If that is too much for you, please skip this one and let me know so I can fill you in briefly on what happens. Keep yourselves safe friends :)
> 
> I loved writing this chapter. There's one more after this one. Enjoy!

For once, Richard didn’t have anything to say. His eyes somehow turned even colder. They pierced right through Peter, almost painfully. The boy wanted to shake at the glare, but held his ground.

There was silence. Peter shifted his feet. “Well, um –” He started, desperate to leave now. “That’s – that’s all. I’ll go now.”

He began to spin on his heel, but Richard’s voice stopped him. His tone was terrifying. It sent a strike of fear through Peter.

“Wait,” Richard spoke. Peter turned his head back.

“Yes?”

Richard was heaving even harder now. His good looks were no longer there – they’d vanished with illness. The bangs on his forehead stuck to his skin with sweat, and the whites of his eyes were nearly red.

He narrowed his eyes at Peter. “What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?”

Peter flinched at the harsh language. Sure, the team and Tony cursed around him quite a bit, and he himself let a few drop every now and again. But it was something about the way Richard said it. The raw hate in his voice, and the way the wording was delivered. It made Peter once again involuntarily look to Tony, who met Peter’s glance with raised eyebrows.

All it took was that one look. Peter assumed he must have looked pretty helpless to Tony. Pushing Natasha and Clint aside with one stroke, Tony made his way to the door and had it wrenched open. He began to whirl into the room in a worried frenzy.

“Come on little guy,” Tony said, taking Peter by the wrist. He kept his eyes averted from Richard. “You did great, said your stuff. Let’s –”

Peter grasped onto Tony’s sleeve but didn’t let himself be pulled away. Instead, he allowed a fire to angrily run through his veins at Richard’s words. He’d known what Peter had said. What else could Richard possibly want from him?

“You heard me,” Peter spat. He took a couple steps closer to Richard’s bed and beeping machines. “What, are you deaf now too?”

Richard clenched his fists, looking absolutely mutinous. His jaw was clenched and the chin shook in fury. His face said that if he wasn’t bed-ridden, and if Tony wasn’t in the room, he’d kill Peter with his bare hands.

“Just like I said,” Richard seethed. “You’re fucking _weak._ You’re a weak little bitch that thinks clearing his conscience will help somehow –”

Tony pulled Peter by his middle. “Come on, kiddo – you don’t need to hear this –”

But Peter held his feet firm. At the small physical touch and show of parental affection from Tony, Richard gave one of those toothy smiles. Some of his teeth were coated with blood.

“ _I’m_ weak? You’re the one who –”

“I was exactly right about you –” Richard talked over Peter loudly. “I was exactly right – about – about your future –” He seemed to be losing more strength now, coughing red splatters into his hands. “You’re just like your mother.”

That stopped Peter cold. He froze, lips parting open in shock. He’d never heard much of anything said about his mother before –

Richard saw that he’d caught Peter by surprise and wasted no time in pressing forward in cruelty. “You know she killed herself, right? Your mom? She was weak, just like you – and couldn’t take it anymore. She shot herself, right in the mouth. Her blood was all over the bathroom –”

“That’s _enough,”_ Tony’s voice was deadly serious now. “Enough!”

Peter couldn’t be moved. It was as if he was rooted to the spot in a morbid curiosity. Tony desperately tried to get his attention.

“And guess what else?” Richard continued, his words growing even louder. They began to echo off the bleached white walls. “ _Her_ mom killed herself, so did her brother, and so did _my_ father. It’s in your blood, you little fuck. As weak as you are, there’s no hope for you. Like mother like son –”

Peter blinked, unable to process everything. He licked his dry lips. “I meant what I said.” He told his father. It took all his power to hold the waterworks behind the eyes. He needed to leave now. What else was there to say? If he stayed here any longer, Richard would keep pelting him mercilessly with more words. It was astounding how the man knew how to hurt him so well –

He looked up at Tony. “Can we – can we leave now?”

Richard started talking quickly again now, but Tony was quick, ushering Peter out of the room with loud steps. His arm was secure yet gentle around Peter, who’s ears were ringing with disdain. He vaguely heard Tony call back into the room as they left, “Good luck in hell, Parker. And good luck choking to death on your own blood – courtesy of me.”

Tony slammed the door behind them. Peter leaned himself against its frame, feeling two warm tears course down his cheeks. He swiped them away quickly. He’d told Tony he would stop crying.

Tony stared at him, his face blindingly worried. Peter breathed out a little laugh. “Well –” he started. “I don’t think I expected that to go well –”

“Peter,” Tony expressed sorrowfully. He seemed to be at a loss. Honestly, Peter kind of was too. He pushed his hands around Tony sides, hugging him tight, pressing his ear under his neck so he could hear the heartbeat. Tony, like usual, hugged Peter back tight like a normal, good father would. One that wasn’t a psychopath, wasn’t cruel, didn’t hurt their kids. Peter realized he had one of both – a good dad and a bad one. He figured as long as the good one stayed by his side, things would be okay in the long run.

“Can we –” Peter took a shuddering breath and broke back a little from the hug. “Can we go home to New York now? And watch movies on the couch?”

“God kid,” Tony sighed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

_“Okay, okay!” Tony spluttered excitedly. “You’re gonna love this, kiddo!”_

_Peter gave a sideways smile at Tony’s energy. They were headed for Devil’s Bay in the stunning British Virgin Islands. How Tony knew about all these places, Peter had no clue. He guessed that Tony had probably traveled more of the world than Peter could even imagine – him being a billionaire and all._

_“You’ll see, kid,” Tony huffed. They’d been hiking quite a while in order to reach the bay. “This is the most amazing place. The water – it’s incredible. Just up this cliff now –”_

_Peter followed Tony closely, eager to see a sight that even Tony Stark deemed the ‘most amazing place’. The comfortably warm sun beat atop Peter’s hair, making it hot to the touch. Once they reached the top of the cliff, Tony pulled Peter up by his side and placed a hand between his shoulder blades._

_“Now! Take a look at that Pete!”_

_Peter’s breath whooshed from his lungs in awe. They stood high on a cliffside with deep black rocks spilling over the sides and into the waters below. And that_ water. _It shone against the earth in sparkling sapphire waves. The ripples of water were so clear that Peter could see straight to the bottom. Towers of colorful coral could be seen even from up high, as could little schools of fishes that swam around in lifelike groups._

_“Wow,” Peter whispered. “Just – just –”_

_Tony glanced down at Peter. “Yeah. Wow.”_

_Peter felt like he could never look at the scene enough. It was all too much, too breathtaking, too magic. He couldn’t believe that he, a kid from the depths of Queens that had never even had enough for a new pack of socks was here in such a place._

_“You wanna go down there?” Tony asked Peter, his face lit up in joy at Peter’s delight._

_Peter nodded fervently. “We can?!”_

_“Of course. It’s a great snorkeling spot.”_

_Peter jumped excitedly at the thought. He’d really get to swim in water like that! He began to rush down the path towards the little cove, eager. There was such happiness in him – he hadn’t felt like this in a long time._

_As just like that, it was gone._

_It was almost as if a literal dark mist plunged itself into Peter’s heart out of nowhere. Even though he was in this perfect situation with someone that cared deeply for him, there was still a sadness inside. It was extremely frustrating. What was it? Why didn’t it just go away?_

_Why couldn’t he be happy?_

*

Peter finally got what he’d wished for while struggling on the freezing tundra of Wrangel Island. He’d been sitting on the couch in his favorite quilted blanket, eating whatever food he wanted for hours. Him and Tony watched Friends the entire time, not noticing how much time passed with every little twenty minute episode. As the sky outside began to darken, Tony said something that was more than asking Peter how he was feeling or if he needed something else to eat.

“I gotta know, kid,” Tony said, rolling his head on the back of the couch to look at Peter. “Why’d you say it?”

Peter curled his legs up to his chest and situated himself a little closer to Tony. “Huh?”

“What you said to – to Richard. Why?”

Peter shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Come on. You don’t say something like – like _that_ without a reason.”

“Maybe,” Peter twiddled his thumbs in circles. “Maybe I just thought it was the right thing.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Peter could feel Tony’s eyes on him, and when he looked up the man was staring. He knew there was something more. Tony always knew.

“It was May,” Peter relented quietly. “She – she told me to – to – when I was feeling hate for someone. She told me to forgive them. Said it would make me happier.”

Tony had a funny expression on his face. It was close to pitying. “What?” Peter asked, self-conscious.

“Nothing, it’s just –” Tony pulled Peter in closer the way he did when he was feeling anxious about something. “I just don’t want you to get – pushed around by people throughout your life. I mean – it’s nice to forgive others – but if someone hurts you that can’t be excused. Does that make sense?”

A hot pit was forming in Peter’s gut. “Not – well I don’t know –”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. It was all getting pretty deep for him – Peter could tell. “I mean, you shouldn’t think it’s okay for people to hurt you –”

“I _don’t_ think –”

“Well, if you forgive someone for something like that – kiddo it kind of does –”

Peter’s voice turned squeaky. “No, no, I mean, the _real_ reason I wanted to do it so badly is – is because –” He averted his eyes from Tony’s stare. “I thought it would help me be happy.” He mumbled.

Tony cocked his head to the side. “What was that?”

Peter sighed and repeated himself louder. “I thought it would help make me happy.”

The hand Tony had around Peter moved up to the back of his neck and squeezed. Peter noticed something click in Tony’s eyes. “Are you not happy, Peter?”

God, he’d wanted to tell someone for so long. This gnawing, aching fear inside of him that kept him from truly being himself had been caged for months upon months. He needed to talk about it – the right opportunity just never came up.

Peter shifted himself on the couch. “Okay, so here’s the thing –”

Tony bit his lip slightly comically. “Oh no – not a _thing,”_

A little smile ghosted Peter’s face. “Okay listen – this is kinda important –”

“Right, sorry. I’m totally listening.”

Peter held his breath for a moment, trying to let everything out in the right way. “Well, it’s just – sometimes I feel like there’s almost like –” He clenched at his stomach. “Like a _hole_ inside me. And it’s not there all the time. It’s weird – it’s there when I should be feeling really happy. It’ll just hit me out of nowhere – I don’t get it –”

He trailed off, not knowing how else to express his feelings. His eyes met Tony’s, and he knew his gaze was helpless. Tony looked as if he was processing Peter’s information carefully, his face deep in thought.

“Okay,” Tony spoke carefully. “Is it all right if I ask you a couple questions about this?”

Peter nodded mutely.

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Um – it started a couple months before May – May died. Then it just got worse after that.”

Tony’s eyebrows raised in understanding. Peter was surprised how calm he was being. “And, how long does the sad feeling last once it comes?”

“Well, once it comes it usually sticks around for the rest of the day. It freaks me out, Tony. It’s just like, no matter what, I’m never _really_ happy. I don’t understand –”

“All right,” Tony soothed as Peter got more worked up. “It’s okay. I think I might have an idea of what’s going on here.”

Peter perked up. “Really?”

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. “Well, it sounds like you might have some kind of depression.”

Well, whatever he’d been expecting Tony to say – it wasn’t that.

Because what the hell?

“ _What?_ ” Peter exclaimed. “I don’t have – I couldn’t have – you really think?!”

Tony waved his hands spastically. “It’s nothing to freak out about kid, honestly –”

Peter ran his hands through his hair and grabbed at the roots desperately. “What do you mean it’s nothing to freak out about? It’s totally something to freak out about! Do you think I do? Can you even live with depression? Oh my _shit,_ ” A terrible realization washed over him. “Richard was right, he was right about everything! My mom killed herself and I’m going to end up the same way! I –”

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_ ” Tony’s eyes widened. He grabbed Peter’s shoulders tightly and shook him a little. “You listen to me right now. Let this sink into your brain. You are _not_ going to end up like your mother – or any of your family. I don’t know if all those things Richard said are even true – he’s a freak that way –”

“But – but –”

“No, we’re listening, remember? Regardless, kiddie – regardless of if what he said is true, that’s not going to happen to you –"

Peter felt flits of panic rising in his chest. “But how do you know?”

“Because I won’t let that happen, okay? It’s not going to happen. Have you been thinking about killing yourself? Be honest with me.”

“Um –” Peter couldn’t believe he was talking about all this with Tony. “Not _really_ , I mean sometimes it goes through my mind but it never sounds very appealing –”

“Okay. You let me know if that changes.”

“I will.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, promise.”

“Okay, I’m holding you to that. So – we’ll take care of this. Believe it or not, but depression is actually very treatable. If you make sure to take care of yourself and treat it like a real illness, things can get better.”

Peter chewed on the end of his thumb, feeling a little ray of hope enter his mind. “Really?”

Tony smiled kindly. “Yeah, really. I mean, I would know. I’ve had tons of mental illness shit in my life.”

A pang of sympathy hit Peter. He wondered who’d helped Tony through all of that. “I’m sorry,” He said minutely.

“Well it’s okay now, because I got better. Just like you will. Everything is going to get better, Peter.”

More hoped flooded throughout Peter. “All right,” He told the man. “I trust you.”

“Good,” Tony brushed Peter’s hair back. “How are you feeling now? Is that sad feeling there? Are you happy, Peter?”

Peter looked around the room – the fancy, beautiful room that he got to call his home. He felt Tony’s comforting hand on his shoulder and thought of his two best friends and all of the team members that he loved so much.

“Not totally,” He answered truthfully. “But – I think I’ll get there.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took ten zillion years to post. Just, yeah sorry! College, ya know.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

The sound of Tony’s bedroom door creaking ignited an automatic panic in his heart. He shot up in bed at the noise, becoming tangled in the sheets. Before he could call out to whoever was infiltrating his room, a speedy little figure crawled onto his bed and curled into a ball.

Through the dim light, Tony could barely make out who it was. “Peter?” His voice scratched through the dark.

Peter curled himself a little more. “Hm?”

“You okay, bud?” He reached out for the kid, brushing over his forehead and hair.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered. “I just – I just – could I stay here with you for a bit?”

Tony sat up a little straighter and flicked on the bedside lamp. It filled the room with dim, yellowish light. “You can stay here as long as you want, kiddo. Look at me for a second –”

Peter’s eyes traveled up to Tony’s gaze. His eyes were a little glassy and lips pale. When Tony placed a hand on his cheek it was cold and clammy.

“You feel sick?”

Peter bit his lip. “I threw up.”

“You did? When?”

“A couple hours ago.”

Tony felt Peter’s forehead again. “Is your stomach hurting? Do you feel nauseous?”

Peter shrugged. “I mean – not really. I was trying to sleep – and – and started feeling nervous I think. It made me sick I was so nervous.”

A pang of sympathy rushed through Tony. He grasped Peter gently by the upper arm and pulled him into a sitting position. The kid was shaking a little and fidgeted his gaze around the room with overlarge eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony tried to soothe. He scratched Peter’s back lightly in a parental way. “What’s making you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” Peter’s voice was soft. “Everything.”

Something in Tony’s mind told him that this might be how things were for a while. He could empathetically vouch for the fact that after going through traumatic experiences, there were often irrational fears that followed. Plus, Peter’s youth probably magnified those emotions.

“Okay,” Tony told him. “Well, you don’t need to be scared, okay? You’re here with me now, and I’ll take care of you.” He pulled the blankets up around Peter until they were resting underneath his chin. Peter wiggled himself around, snuggling in the warmth. Tony’s mouth quirked slightly in a smile because how fucking cute was this kid?

“I’ll take care of you.”

*

Peter cried when he saw Happy again. He’d never admit it – but Happy’s eyes were a little misty as well. Peter noticed. He’d come bounding down the stairs one morning and – boom. There Happy Hogan was, sipping a cup of coffee with Tony. He raced towards the man, the waterworks starting.

“Happy!” Peter gasped, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. “You’re here! You’re okay!”

Happy held Peter tightly, almost desperately. “God, kid,” Happy’s voice trembled. He rested his cheek against Peter’s hair. “Peter – _Peter –_ I’m so sorry –”

“What?!” Peter pulled back a little and squinted his eyes. “You’re sorry? Why are you sorry? _I’m_ sorry for being a teenage spaz –”

Tony held his coffee cup up in a mock toast. “Let’s all say sorry! I’m sorry for –”

“Don’t be dumb.” Peter shot at him. Tony scoffed. Happy looked tormented.

“Kid,” Happy placed a hand on the side of Peter’s face. “God – how could I ever make it up to you –”

Peter’s tone was passionate. “You don’t need to. There was nothing you could have done.”

Happy looked away at those words. Peter bit his lip at the sight of his friend’s very prominent guilt. He tugged on Happy’s shirtsleeve softly.

“Hey,” Peter voiced meekly. Happy’s eyes found Peter’s again. “Thanks for doing so much to protect me. Really. You’re the best.”

Happy stared at Peter as if he was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. He held an arm out and pulled Peter in against his side. Him and Tony exchanged a glance.

“This kid, Stark,” Happy said, shaking his head in disbelief. “What are we gonna do about him?”

Peter creased his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”

Tony took another gulp of coffee and sighed, ruffling Peter’s hair. “I know, man,” Tony agreed. “He’s too precious.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

*

_“So kiddo, we can move all of your things from the apartment into the room you’re in now – or you can pick any other room you’d like –”_

_Peter’s head shot up from his bowl of soggy cereal. “No.” He stated firmly._

_Tony fought the urge to run a hand down his face in exhaustion. “No?”_

_“No, I don’t need to move my things.” His voice was simple, like this was completely obvious. “They can stay at the apartment.”_

_Tony gazed at the kid in confusion for a moment. May’s funeral had been a week ago. He’d been putting it off – but at this point they really needed to go and clean out the apartment. Tony didn’t want anything to happen to Peter’s things that might be important to him._

_“Peter,” Tony said softly. “The – the apartment is going to have to go back to the owner. We’ll need to go clear everything out –”_

_Peter’s eyes widened in realization. “No,”_

_“So you can move in here –”_

_He pushed away from his chair. “No, no, no!”_

_Tony reached for him. “Come on, kid –”_

_Peter grabbed at the roots of his hair, panicked. He did this when more changes came. “No – I live in Queens – I live in Queens! I don’t need to move!”_

_“You’re still from Queens, Pete,” Tony told him calmly, striding forward and taking Peter by the upper arms. “That’s still your home – where you go to school. You’ll just be sleeping here is all.”_

_“No, no, no,” Peter shook his head against Tony’s chest that he’d been pulled against. He made a few feeble attempts to pull away, but Tony held on tight. Obviously, Peter didn’t want to be let go. He could wrench himself from Tony in half a second. Tony knew him, he liked staying close even if sometimes he fought it._

_“Peter,” Tony tilted up his chin with a pointer finger. Terrified, watery eyes of a teenager met his. “It’s – it’s time to accept this. God, I know it sucks, I know it isn’t fair. But the sooner you accept that she’s –” He took a deep breath through the nose before actually saying it. “ – she’s – dead – the sooner things can start getting better.”_

_The kid sniffled. It was a spastic, shaky noise. His lip trembled. Tony hated the sight of him like this. It made his heart physically ache._

_“You’re still her kid,” Tony said when Peter seemed unable to speak. “You’ll always be hers, that doesn’t change. But now you’re here, with me and I’m going to take care of you. You’re taken care of kid –”_

_Peter latched himself tighter around Tony. “Accept it?” Peter muttered against Tony’s shoulder. “How do you accept when bad things happen to you? Like – really bad things?”_

_In the dim light of the kitchen, thoughts swirled through Tony’s brain at that question. He stood with a child he was responsible for and couldn’t muster up a good enough answer that was the truth. Should he lie? Talk about how he moved past his parent’s deaths? He should probably keep Peter home from school today, let him watch TV. But wait – he’d already missed so much and his grades were going to fall. He probably would cry in school though today – gosh and had he eaten anything good recently? Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d given the kid a vegetable –_

_“Tony?” Peter questioned meekly._

_Tony blinked out of his scattered thoughts and looked down at Peter. “Aw, sorry kiddie, I just – I was thinking. But you accept it by like – looking on the bright side of things. Or keeping yourself busy. We can do fun things together if you want – I uh – I have lots of – fun things – ”_

_Peter jerked his head backwards while a teeny smile played on his face. “Kitty? Kitty? Really? Like a cat? Did you just call me that? –”_

_Some relief came to Tony’s brain. Peter wasn’t freaking out so much now. “That’s all you got from what I just said? I’m trying to be the cool guardian here.”_

_Peter wiggled himself back a little, but still let Tony keep a hand on his shoulder. “Cool guardians don’t call kids kitty. That’s lame.”_

_“First of all – attitude.” said Tony, holding up one finger. Peter giggled a little. The sound was like medicine. “Second – I didn’t mean it like a fu – freaking cat. Like kid and then ‘e’. Cause you’re a kid so I just put an ‘e’ on the end.”_

_Peter raised his eyebrows. Tony sighed._

_“It’s cute, okay?”_

_“Nope,” Peter took Tony’s hand from his shoulder and grabbed his school bag with a sight. “Not cute. Lame. Lamesauce.”_

_“That makes no sense. And third – due to your intense disrespect, I’m calling you kiddie every single day for the rest of my life.”_

_Peter shouldered his backpack and rolled his eyes. “Shenanigans.”_

_“Call all the shenanigans you want. And hey –” Tony took Peter’s backpack from him. “School, shmool. Let’s do something fun today. I’m bored in this house all by myself.”_

_Some of the worried lines on Peter’s face relaxed, and he took a breath. A swell of pride came to Tony at making the right call._

_Peter nodded. “Yeah – sure. That would be good.”_

_“But tomorrow, young man,” Tony waved a finger at Peter. “You’re going to get an education. Also you have to eat a vegetable today.”_

_Peter keeled over with laughter._

*

When Peter heard that Steve was back in the tower to pack up his things, he raced up the stairs to the man’s bedroom. Well, maybe racing wasn’t the best term for it. It had only been a couple weeks since coming home from Alaska. Peter was still a little slow on his feet.

The door clanged against the wall when Peter burst into Cap’s room. “Steve,” He said breathlessly. “You’re – you’re –” His brain registered the scene before him. Steve Rogers, with a large suitcase sprawled on his bed. Clothes were being hurriedly thrown inside. “Are you _leaving?”_

Steve looked up at Peter then, with a face that seemed to have aged thirty years. The whites of Steve’s eyes were red, and there were more lines under his eyes and mouth. His skin was a sickly color. Peter reeled a little at the sight of him.

After licking his lips, Steve spoke. “Yes,” His voice was scratched. “Today.”

Leaving?

Like, moving away?

Was Tony really that upset?

Or – was Steve upset?

Honestly – Peter had never really gotten the full story about their fight. And he didn’t need it. He knew the gist. One thought they were right over the other, so they got into a bitch fit over things. It was the same old story.

Peter threw his hands up in the air out of frustration.

“Are you _fucking_ serious?”

Steve’s mouth fell open and the t-shirt in his hand slipped out and dropped to the floor. “Jeez, Pete,” He said, looking even whiter. “Watch your –”

“If you tell me to watch my _fucking_ language I’m going to have a _fucking_ spasm.” Peter balled his fists, feeling his fingernails draw blood. “I mean, what the actual fuck? This is what you’re going to do? You’re going to fucking leave after _everything_? You little –”

“Peter.” Steve’s voice was stern. “Calm. Down. This isn’t like you. Don’t be like this – don’t be an angry person –”

“Well I am angry!” Peter nearly shrieked. Vaguely he could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, but he was too full of unidentifiable emotions to care. “I’m fucking pissed! I mean – holy shit! How much more am I going to have to go through? Do I need to add _another_ fucking disappointment to my sixteen years of shitty life? Is that how this is going to go?”

Steve held a shaking hand out. His expression was anguished and tearful. Peter had never seen Cap cry before.

“Listen to me,” Steve started, his hand still raised. “I _messed up_ , kid. I did something terrible. I almost got you killed. Everything that just happened to you a few weeks ago? That was me. How can I stay here – in this place _Tony_ pays for – when I almost killed his kid? How can I stay here where _you_ live when I almost killed you? It’s impossible, Pete – I can’t –”

“Damn right you can’t,” came Tony’s voice from behind Peter’s shoulder. When Peter turned to look at him Tony nodded, his eyes steely. “It’s for the best, Peter. Steve will be fine.”

Peter gaped. Hadn’t he already spoken with Tony about this? Hadn’t he asked him to settle things with Cap? How was this not resolved by now?

“Please don’t do this to me,” Peter whispered, looking up at Tony earnestly. “Please don’t make me have to lose someone else. Please don’t make me have to make more changes to my life. _Please,_ Tony –”

There was a shiver of silence in the room. Tony’s eyes darted all over Peter’s face. He looked as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. With a shuddering breath, Tony ran a hand through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. Peter understood a bit of what he was thinking. How can you let such painful things go? How can you accept when your life goes down a path you never envisioned? How can you forgive people that hurt you?

Hamilton’s wife did it somehow. Alexander was nearly at fault for their son’s death and she forgave him anyways.

_Forgiveness – can you imagine?_

“You told me to accept it when bad things happen,” Peter said, pulling on his sleeve when Tony seemed unable to speak. “You told me all those months ago. After the –” He took a shaky breath. “After the funeral. You said once you accept it’s happened, that’s when you can start making things better –”

“I can’t accept people that hurt you, Peter –” Tony cut in seriously. “That’s something I will _never –”_

“But he didn’t mean to hurt me,” Peter reminded Tony carefully. “It would be different if it was on purpose but – it wasn’t.”

Tony took another heavy breath. He looked extremely conflicted. Cap bit his bottom lip in discomfort.

“It’s all right, Pete,” Cap told him quietly. “Don’t worry, okay? I’ll still see you around –”

“No.” Tony interjected, a shaking hand over his eyes. “Just – no.” He sighed and met Peter’s eyes. “This is really important to you, huh?”

Peter nodded. Tony’s shoulders slumped.

“Right. Well,” he didn’t meet Steve’s eyes. Not once. “Rogers, you can stay. Just – you can – stay.” Then he groaned, turned on his heel and left the room. Peter didn’t blame him. Tony getting out of there fast was probably for the best.

Peter turned to Cap, his eyes wide. “You see? It’s going to be okay!”

Steve didn’t exactly look happy. His mouth sat in a straight line. “Well,” He breathed. “I don’t think I could have asked for better than that.”

“That’s true.” Peter agreed.

“And also,” Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “You need a swear jar, kid,”

*

It was amazing how many things were still the same, even after all the trauma. For example, Peter still loved the ocean. He loved how it smelled, he loved the colors. He loved all the little critters in the pools and the seashells. Tony was right – through everything that was a constant.

He still loved sitting up on the roof as well. And he loved when Tony would come find him on the roof and bring him a snack or a soda, or just a nice conversation. Tony was also right about himself – he was a constant to Peter as well.

Okay, well he was trying to look on the bright side.

And good things staying good helped him do that.

Those little things that remained constant were life savers when he felt ready to burst. When he sometimes felt so sad or angry or _terrified_ that air escaped him. Shadows were scary sometimes, he jumped at loud noises more, and anyone could startle him in a matter of seconds. But Tony was always there, ready to help, ready to lend a hand.

They sat on the roof together the night before Peter decided he was ready to go back to school. Tony’s arm was wrapped around Peter’s shoulders in a way that conveyed safety and stability to the teen. His heart felt full of gratitude for the man. Full of affection for his guardian, full of hope for the future. Despite his recent realization that there was some very real depression creeping into his mind, he wasn’t too afraid. He’d accepted it. If Tony said it was treatable then it was. If he said they could get through it then they could. Tony wouldn’t lie to him. He trusted that.

“I meant what I said,” Peter spoke suddenly as they looked out over the sky. Tony turned his head.

“Hm?”

“I – I meant it –” He began to explain. “What I said, on the plane that day –”

Peter felt Tony stiffen. He was probably prodding at an agonizing memory, but he pushed further.

“When I was – I was hurt –”

Tony pursed his lips. “Yeah, I remember, bud –”

Peter curled a little closer. “I didn’t just say it because I thought I was dying. I really meant what I said.”

“Meant what, kiddie?”

He took in a breath. “That you’re a _good_ father.”

A beat. A small intake of air from Tony. A tightening of his arm. Peter let his eyes shine up at his friend, trying to convey a little more of his feelings, because right now, without Tony, he’d be nothing.

Tony brushed Peter’s hair back. “And I meant it too – that I’ve loved being your father. I’m always going to love it. No matter what.”

They stared for a moment, letting the words sink in. Then Peter coughed a little theatrically. “Um. Cheesy?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Now _you’re_ the one ruining emotional moments? I’ve had a terrible influence on you.”

“I learn from the best.”

“That’s true. I _am_ the best.”

They bantered a bit more, talked some more. Peter finally got Tony to finish his weird duck story. They laughed, and the sound rang. And during, Peter took in deep breaths and let them out slowly. It was like he was taking in the good sitting next to him and expelling the bad. All the doubt, pain, fear, betrayal of late, pushed out and away.

He let it out.

And began to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S OVER! Whew! Guys, thank you so much for reading and leaving comments! I've never actually finished a story this long before, so thank you! You are the best!!
> 
> ~E.A.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE let me know what you think! Comments are what help me with finishing stories and what I need to work on. They also make me happy :) So PLEASE comment!


End file.
